Whispers and Wishes
by J. E. Talveran
Summary: The Moorlands had not been the only faery realm the Kingdom had hungered for; but they had dug too deep and wanted too much and all of it was now Aurora's burden to bear. [Eventual Malora]
1. Chapter 1

The fire ate through the Throne Room and left nothing but the scorched iron, black as the smoke-drenched night. The gathering within the space itself was small and awkward, both sides glaring at their opposites and wondering who would be the first to strike up the feud for the countless time.

For the Kingdom, the Captain of the Guard stood over the lifeless body of the King; and behind him were several guards and the few advisers that Stefan had commanded to remain within the iron walls to see his eventual triumph over the Moorlands. Prince Philip stood by awkwardly, looking as out of place as Maleficent herself felt.

For the Moorlands, Maleficent stood with her back towards the shattered window, and her body tense and ill-at-ease with the iron walls all about her. Diaval wore his raven-shape, the nature of his true form allowing him to recover from the battle. The three pixies hovered just out of reach, eyes wide and sad as the gravity of the situation affected even their tiny minds.

Only the Princess Aurora was alone. She stood within the No-Man's Land between the two sides, her fingers curling and unfurling at her sides. She had watched Maleficent carry Stefan's body back within the castle, the man stripped from the iron monster, and now she stared at a father she had dreamed about but would never know.

There's an itch in Maleficent's body. It demanded she stride down the steps, step over the fragments of a kingdom, and steal the girl away before any more harm could befall her. She ignored it, shoving it deep within her until it's an ache in her bones. She wasn't even sure she was the right person to offer comfort. Not for this. She bristled when Prince Philip is the first one to break from the stand off and approach Aurora but does nothing to stop it. Why should she when it was her anger and her grief and her hatred that had brought everyone to this exact moment?

Prince Philip went towards Aurora as one would a spooked horse, hands steady and spread out wide and low, to show that no harm was meant; no trickery would be brought down sudden. He spoke to her with a voice softer than the breeze that rustled through the Moorlands at night and he made it almost to her side when she finally responded.

She turned, not toward him, but to Maleficent, blue eyes eerily luminescent in the dark and asked very simply: "I want to go home now."

Only then, Maleficent gave in. She took the steps down toward Aurora without thought and her arms opened wide, not as a sign of peace, but an offer of security. She didn't flinch when Aurora met her halfway, body thrown haphazardly against the faery. Maleficent's hands steady the Princess, and she tried her hardest to ignore the trembling that she feels underneath her hands; and lifted her gaze to meet the Guard Captain's own, daring him to speak out.

The man will forever be scarred from this night, it's visible in the way the skin is raw and ragged along the strong curve of his cheek, and in the way his body is curved inward upon itself. Still, there's a wisdom in his eyes as he only granted her a nod in return before addressing his men.

"We will give the Princess the space and time she needs to mourn her father." The unspoken acknowledgement being that when the period of mourning was done, the affairs of state would be addressed was something Maleficent could agree upon. He gestured for the advisers to back away, that this gathering was concluded.

Truthfully, the protest of not only what had happened, but what was happening now should have sparked into a frenzy, but the advisers only murmured agreement and offered platitudes to Aurora, well-wishes and condolences that meant nothing.

Only Prince Philip lingered on. hands twisted nervously before him. Maleficent didn't give him the notice that he probably deserved, but that thought is wasted when Aurora had spoken her wishes. She wanted to go home, and so, home they would travel.

Diaval stirred on the perch of wood and steel he'd claimed and clacked his beak questioningly. Would she need his services to carry Aurora? Maleficent shook her head, and unfurled her wings. Already she could feel the way they bristled and moved, eager to see flight once again. She had told Aurora that they were strong, and never faltered, and she had no reason to think they would do so now when she had need of them most.

"Hold tight, Beastie," she commanded Aurora, and waited until the Princess' arms were snug at her waist, cupped underneath the joining of her wings until she grasped tighter in return and pushed from the steps. Aurora instinctively grips tighter but she turns her head towards the outside, so she could watch the flight and Maleficent cannot help but feel pride in the girl's courage.

The flight is wonderful and awkward. Maleficent, as agile as she had been once, was not used to carrying someone along with her, and the angle of her body to keep Aurora close and still have the grace to fly was one that left her shoulders aching.

She couldn't complain. Not when it was her body protesting the return of flight and the weight of her wings throwing her off-balance. Still, when her feet touch the moss at the roots of the Rowan tree that was her sanctuary, she is relieved and surprised that the travel went as smooth as it had. Aurora is a little shaken up; she'd toppled over as soon as Maleficent had let go, but the Princess' cheeks are red with the cold and her eyes are lit up with the same wonder Maleficent felt whenever she took to the air. For a moment or two, the grief is banished, but it returned soon enough with the retreat of excitement and arrival of exhaustion.

"Come on," Maleficent tugged carefully, maneuvering the girl from her spot on the moss and up into the tree. The branches are wide and secure, and within the very center formed a haven to rest one's weary head upon. It is here that Maleficent guides Aurora, and it is here that she took watch nearby. With Diaval settled upon his roost, and the Princess quick to fall into the oblivion that sleep could bring, Maleficent found herself awake long after the moon had climbed high into the sky. The day was repeated in her mind again and again, and her thoughts went further back, to a boy who had once given up something precious just to hold her hand.

It was when the first rays of dawn lanced gold and pink over the eastern sky did Maleficent finally succumb to sleep herself.


	2. Chapter 2

The light that cascaded down through the leaves was a burnished gold that glittered as it chased away the dew that clung to the leaves of the rowan tree. It's the brush of her namesake, warm and gentle against her cheeks, that stirred Aurora from her sleep. Her eyes fluttered open to see the rustling branches and the shadows dancing along her body like dancers in perfect step. She's confused, but only until the rich scent of the Moorlands greets her, and she cannot help but find herself sinking back into the bough of the tree.

She watched the clouds first, catching glimpses of their pink and yellow underbellies as the sun crept into the sky before her attention drifted closer to the earth. Next, it was the tree and the ornaments within it that steal her notice. There are dolls crafted of leaves and twigs tucked reverently away into knotholes worn old by time and exposure; and necklaces woven from natural materials that gleam as they refract the sunlight. Tucked into an outstretched limb is a nest, a motley collection of twigs and shiny objects, and above that …

"Pretty Bird," Aurora smiles at Diaval's soft chirrup. The raven is perched above the nest, claws secure on a sturdy offshoot. He stretches out his wings, waking up to greet the day just as she did, and Aurora can see the pattern of fire that singed through the feathers. It had to have hurt, but Diaval's little noises are as cheerful as they'd been every time he'd woken her in the morning.

Diaval ducked his head over a shoulder, averting attention from her towards feather maintenance, and Aurora resumes her quiet observation. She'd never woken up in the Moorland before, even when she'd been exhausted and laid her head down for a nap as she listened to the quiet rhythm of Maleficent's voice. She'd always woken in her bedroom and with the scent of the Moorlands faint on the winds. How Maleficent had never been caught by her aunts was a mystery that Aurora would ask about one day.

That day wasn't today, though.

Aurora reached down to push the blankets covering her off to a side and stopped when she encountered resistance; and feathers. She looked to see that she'd been covered by brown feathers so rich in color and hue that they shimmered black and gold and all the colors of autumn caught within the dying light of an afternoon. She carefully reached out a hand to trail her fingers over the largest of the flight feathers, and marveled at the texture. It's only when her gaze travels the length of the feathers that she realize what they were, and to whom they belonged.

Maleficent was curled within a forked branch, her wings slackened from sleep and her body draped against the rowan wood as if she'd always known it's grasp during slumber. She wore the black tunic still, but despite the severity of the outfit, looked to be finally at a moment's peace. Aurora extracted the wing from across her, then laid it back upon the hammock she'd awoken in.

It didn't take long before she came to the conclusion that this tree was the heart of Maleficent's own home, and for a spell, Aurora felt like an intruder. Diaval's constant noise drew her back from her insecurity, and he hopped closer to offer her a far better morning greeting.

She responded by her stomach, the growling demand for food quickly causing her cheeks to flare red and Diaval to caw his laughter. Her eyes shift guilty towards Maleficent, but the faery remained asleep.

"I suppose it's my turn to gather the berries and hazelnuts for breakfast, isn't it?" She murmured to Diaval, and he only bobbed his head in return, taking flight to swoop out of the tree and guide her to exactly where she could find breakfast.

Aurora is not so quick to climb out, but she is surefooted from years of living in the forest and climbing the stately pine and oak trees and her feet touch the moss that covers the ground and grows over the roots. She looked upward at the shadow of wings, taking this slice of eternity for herself before she answered the call for food and freshening up.

The morning chased the night away completely when Aurora and Diaval finish up the fruit of their labors, the berries sweet on Aurora's tongue and the hazelnuts stored in her pockets for when she grows hungry again. Now the deneizens of the Moorlands have been told of her arrival. The ungainly and rotund wallerbogs clambered through the muck of the nearby creek to offer her grunting greetings. After them were the two hedgehog faeries that she'd befriended, and after them were the glimmering sprites that had yet to sleep for they'd wanted to see the Princess once again.

With the Moorland Folk crowded around her, Aurora felt the previous day banished to the far reaches of her mind and she was grateful to not be alone with her thoughts. Not before she could talk with Maleficent without the tension of the castle and the curse. With Diaval keeping a close eye, Aurora lost herself in the carefree frolicking of the faerie creatures and allowed them to steal the dark thoughts from her mind until she was as happy as she'd been when Maleficent had first offered her a home here.

She'd travelled along the muddy banks with the wallerbogs as they pointed out the ways they were cultivating a new course for the stream to allow for the bright silver flowers to bloom under the watchful care of the flower faeries. She'd ducked over the great roots and wound through the mushrooms after the hedgehog pair in a delightful game of hide and seek.

It was when the sun was high and the day was as blue as the shell of a robin's egg when Aurora spied the first sentry moving at the edge of the grove that she'd returned to. The tall, treelike creatures moved with unnatural quietness, and they would watch her with sightless eyes. She remembered Maleficent introducing her to one such Sentry, one of the oldest of the Border Guards with his branches shaped like the antlers of the mightiest of stags. Balthazar she'd called him, but as Aurora watched the two who patrol, she doesn't recognize them.

Diaval must have, for he flies away from her and lands on a stump near the patrol to caw animatedly with them. They stop and return conversation in their own guttural language. With Diaval occupied and Maleficent still asleep, Aurora brushed off her dress and left for one of the high cliffs she'd been shown a few weeks prior.

The cliff overlooked much of the western Moorlands, and Aurora's sight could go beyond the Wall of Thorns towards the black shadow that was the castle. Her castle. She'd spent years staring at it when she was younger and wondering what it would have been like to visit. Now, though, her arms curled tight about her knees, drawing them close, and she couldn't help but wish she'd never gone to ask her Aunties about leaving the cottage.

Aurora could only remember once before had she ever felt this clawing sense of … she couldn't put a name to the sensation, but knew that it rolled in her belly like an iron stone and left her thoughts twisting over themselves again and again until there was nothing left but the terrible what-if's and could-have-beens. The last time had been when Aunt Knotgrass had told her of her parents death, and she'd spent that very night staring out the window of her bedroom and wishing the stupidest of wishes that they'd been lying. That her parents were just off on a grand adventure, or a dangerous mission and would come for Aurora when they could.

She understood now that she'd already grieved for the man she'd considered calling father on that long-ago night; when his face had been a mystery and his gruff exterior was her imagining of how a father should be. She could not mourn the King in the Castle, for he was a stranger to her, and while she felt sorrow at his death; it didn't eat at her now the way that Auntie Knotgrass' tale had clawed at her back then.

She felt worse at the lack of grief in her thoughts, and the guilt was something that she couldn't shake away until she'd recited the old nursery rhymes that Auntie Flittle enjoyed singing. Each one she went over, singing them soft at first, and then loud enough when she couldn't keep the tears silent, and they came with shoulder-shaking sobs. Her voice become rough as she sang to say goodbye to her childhood; the one she'd dreamed of, and the one she'd had. She sang loud to cover her heartbreak at the knowledge that her parents truly had gone on a grand adventure; one they would never return from and one she wouldn't follow for a very long time.

Aurora sang until her voice was little more than a whisper and the tears were nothing more than hiccups. Alone upon the clifftop, she said her goodbyes to the girl she had been, knowing that whatever yesterday had wrought would mean never returning to the sunlit afternoons where her biggest care was the idea of pleading for another hour or several within the Moorlands. Her eyes felt itchy and sore, and her stomach hurt, but she could stare at the world without the dark clouds in her mind.

Movement along the Thorn Wall catches her eye, and she watched with curiosity as a large winged figure rose up high over the towering plants. Though she'd never seen that silhouette, she knew who it was immediately.

Maleficent had awoken.


	3. Chapter 3

Even when the nights were spent exploring the Moorlands through Aurora's inquistive gaze, Maleficent had never slept long after the dawn broke. Even when those nights had ended with the dawn breaking; sleep was just something that was unobtainable for the faery. So when she woke and felt the sunlight warming her from the west, she was puzzled.

For a brief flash of terror, she wondered if she'd been drugged once again, but that thought disappeared when she jerked upright and the unexpected weight of her wings dragged her back against the Rowan Tree. They were heavier than she remembered, and they were softer than her fingers remembered, and they were as whole as the night before that terrible, horrible morning.

Time travelled quietly around her as she stayed within the crooked branch of the Rowan until Diaval's shadow swept over her face and blocked the sun. She opened her eyes to him shifting his weight from one foot to the other, and with a wave of her hand …

He'd grown used to her need to change him while he was mid-step, or just before a landing. He equated it to the nature of faeries and their need for mischief. This transformation was one of the nicer ones and he'd wound up crouched on the branch. He fell into the tree beside her and just smiled.

"What?"

"Nothing, I'm just glad you are awake." He held out a handful of hazelnuts and blacknuts for her, and she took them with quiet gratitude. She crunched down on the first, and her brow arched at his still-present smile.

"I thought ravens sought their mates in the Springtime?" She inquired, after taking several seconds to work the right amount of indifference into her question. She didn't want to offend one of her oldest companions, but she'd heard things about how ravens acted.

Diaval gave her a look so quizzical that she cannot resist the twitch of her lips into a lightning-quick smirk. "We do - what does that have to do with anything?"

Maleficent's brow remained arched. He continued to stare at her until she deliberately, and carefully lifted a hazelnut up to her lips. The way Diaval's expression morphed from confused to affronted is one that Maleficent cannot school herself for, and so she grinned widely as he sputtered in protest.

"I'm kidding."

"You know I have a hard time telling if you're pulling my tailfeathers!"

"It was funny."

"It is not funny. Mating Season is a serious business, not a joke." He really did look unamused, so she took pity on him. She nodded her head in apology and it took him staring at her until she started to feel guilt, and that was a feeling that crawled down her neck and spine like a spider and she didn't enjoy it. Not before when he'd guilted her in picking up a young Aurora, and not when he guilted her into the chance for Prince Philip and True Love's Kiss.

"I will not make light of it again," she promised. Diaval seemed satisfied for his smile returned and he went back to watching her eat hazelnuts. She could stand it for all of a minute. "Where is the little beastie?"

"Aurora, you mean?" He gestured behind him, up toward the high cliffs that gave a magnificent overlook to the Moorlands and the lands beyond the boundary stores. "Up there, but I think she needs some time to herself."

Maleficent nodded. That she could understand. She'd allow the Princess time to grieve as humans would … but what to do in the meantime? Her gaze raked along the Moorlands from her own tree, and she caught herself averting it several times from the Wall of Thorns. With Stefan dead and Aurora the obvious successor, was the Wall necessary anymore?

"Diaval."

"Mistress?" He looked up.

She gestured towards the Wall. "What do you think?"

He twisted in his seat and peered at the Wall of Thorns with a furrowed brow. "Birchalin mentioned that he was looking forward to Patrolling once more. I think they miss the marshlands at the border."

"It is where they are born and where they rest their dead," Maleficent said, her voice quiet as she watched Diaval watch the Wall. "I will tear it down so they can have their land returned to them."

"And … the human kingdom?" Diaval glanced back her way.

"Is Aurora's, and she is not her father's daughter." There's iron in her voice and it shocked her. She had thought trust lost forever when her wings …

They shift restless with her emotions, and she wanted to leave the conversation. Escape into the clouds was now possible once again but Diaval is one of her oldest companions and she cannot leave before she spoke aloud one of the many thoughts that had kept her awake. She fiddled with the torn hem of the dark tunic she wore and when Diaval fidgeted with the expectation to be turned into a bird, she finally blurts it out.

"You saved my life."

Diaval's restlessness stopped. He cocked his head toward her, eyes bright and black even in the shadow of the branches around them. "Mistress?"

"Maleficent." She said. "You have earned the right to call me by my name."

Diaval nodded, but frowned. "Why?"

"I just told you, and I don't repeat myself -"

"Are you releasing me?" Diaval asked suddenly, surging against the wind and the branches until he is at her knee and staring at her with those very-same eyes. "Mist-"

"Maleficent." Her voice is stronger. The iron audible underneath the lilting syllables.

"Maleficent." It sounded awkward on his tongue and he grimaced with the name. "Why am I allowed to speak your name when Mistress has suited our friendship for seventeen years?"

"Is that what you considered this? A friendship? You were my servant."

"I am your servant, but I am your friend too." He reached out, brazen as the sun, and grabbed at her hand. His was coarse underneath her fingers, skin scarred with the imprints of feathers. "And if you are releasing me from the title of servant I would like to remain here with the title of friend."

Quiet descended upon them and it broke when Maleficent took that hand over her own and squeezed. She couldn't convey in words what she wanted to, so she hoped the gesture was enough. It must have been, for Diaval smiled and leaned back and that, it seemed, was that.

"If you grant me my wings, I will fly to the castle and listen for news. We should at least keep an ear out on the humans."

"Into a bird."

Diaval's wings, for the first time, were not painful to watch for the first time in their entire companionship, and her gaze lingered on his form until the clouds swallowed it whole.

Alone, she huddled in the tree to regain the composure she'd built over seventeen years, carefully dressing herself in the neutral tones of the earth, shedding the black of her vengeance; and when it was complete, she climbed to her feet and dropped from the tree in a flurry of motion that her body remembered as if it'd never stopped.

The wind rushed to greet her, and it works through her feathers and along her robes. It was an old friend, eager to catch up with her and uncaring that she'd been gone for so long. The phantom of her scars twinged but vanished when her wings pumped and lifted her from the dive and out into the warm afternoon air that raised her high and higher. She didn't break the clouds, didn't yet dare to push through that mist. Her heart and body were still heavy with grief and she knew that she couldn't bear that final crest into the heavens until that weight was lifted.

She flew towards the Wall of Thorns and hovered between two of the standing stones. She scanned the thorns beneath her, trying to pick out the right spot to begin the unweaving magic. Back and forth, she felt like a pixie flitting among the flowers and she knew she was stalling. She wanted to enjoy the flight for what it meant to her, but she could no longer think only of herself.

There was Diaval.

There was Aurora.

The Wall of Thorns unravels from the point directly beneath her, and disappeared wherever her shadow passed over. Back and forth, her wings stretch far and her magic called deep under the ground. The time for such defense was over and the land had done it's duty.

It took much of her power, but the sun crept down into the eastern mountains and illuminated the high peaks of the cliffs. One such cliff held the presence of a girl, and the stare of that girl was a palpable knowledge. When the last of the thorns withdrew under the soil, Maleficent finally banked towards the cliff.

She landed with a soft 'wuff' of air, and it is not the most graceful she's ever been, but Aurora smiled and went to her feet at Maleficent's arrival. The faery felt nervous, and it showed in the way that her wings settled against her back, then rose up, then settled once again. The years of learning to be still, to have control seemed wasted when her wings didn't care to understand the importance behind such lessons.

But the look of glee on Aurora's face is enough to silence her internal reprimand. The Princess' eyes are red-rimmed, and it doesn't take the keen sight of a faery to see the dried tears on the girl's cheeks. Still, Aurora has not shied away from her and that is something that is quite wonderful.

"You took down the Wall." Aurora sounded as nervous as she did. "Why?"

"It was no longer needed." Maleficent answered. She strode to the tree that sheltered the clifftop and nestled herself upon the roots there. She heard Aurora follow, but the Princess doesn't join her in sitting. Instead, Aurora moved past her and above her, climbing up onto a limb just above Maleficent. The pair stared out over the oncoming night together and the conversation flowed like a river between them. There were eddies of silence and quick, fast-flowing rapids where the words tumbled over and over.

Maleficent spoke more, and Aurora listened as the faery told her of the goodness that had once filled King Stefan's heart. She told the girl of a boy who had once aided her in calming a fawn trapped in the mire after a sudden spring storm, and she told the girl of a young man who had had dreams that once were as bright and wonderful as the Moors that they loved.

Aurora listened as Maleficent spoke of a time before the dark depths of ambition had seized the king, and then she listened more when Maleficent spoke of the beauty and good nature of Aurora's mother. "I had only met her that once," she said, eyes intent on the moon that illuminated the castle. "She had seemed kind."

Aurora moved down from the branches as the conversation went on into the early twilight, until she tucked herself between the rough bark of the tree and the woven fabric of Maleficent's robes. The princess does not duck away when powerful wings unfurl and settle around the pair to protect them from the chill of the night.

When Maleficent's words have stopped falling, and the silence around them is a comforting one, Aurora is the next to speak. Revealing her kind heart, she forgave Maleficent, and then forgave her again - loud enough that it drowned out the faery's protest.

They come to another eddy of silence, and in the lapse of words, Aurora turned herself into that wing - and only after a hesitant nod from Maleficent, she ran her fingers over the feathers for the second time.

"I have been told that I have my mother's wings," Maleficent watched her. "She died when I was very young. I can't remember her voice, or how she looked, but I remember her wings. They would lift over us when the rains came, and she would tuck me beneath them when the night fell over the Moors."

"What happened? To them?" Aurora lifted her head, the question as gently given as one could ever ask such a thing.

"They died protecting the Moorlands when King Henry had first attempted to claim them." Maleficent answered as precise as she could manage without inflicting emotion into the words. It was not Aurora's fault that her lineage was stricken with the greed and violence of her ancestors.

"He was my grandfather, wasn't he?"

"Yes."

Aurora lowered her chin, tucked herself further together underneath the shelter of Maleficent's wing, and scowled at the ground. "So he was as bad as my father."

" … your father never struck against the Moors until after the Curse."

Aurora lifted her eyes, and the moonlight reflected within them. It was not the first time Maleficent discovered that Knotgrass' wish had truly blossomed in Aurora's blood, but it was an acknowledgement the same way one looked at the sunset and saw the glory of nature painted over the sky. Maleficent was one of the fair folk; beauty was appreciated wherever it lay.

"So, it was the Kingdom that changed him?" Aurora broke the gaze, looking back out once again.

"I don't know. I only took the crown of the Moors so the land would listen to my commands. We are not a people used to the rule of a king or a queen, so I can only tell you that my own darkness was fueled by a pain so unimaginable that I hope you never once experience it in all of your days."

Aurora smiled again. "You promised to protect me as long as you live, I think I will never have to worry about that."

Maleficent paused. Considered Aurora, then felt a little exposed. "You were sleeping, how could you…?"

"I just knew. It is why I am forgiving you though you have never asked for it." Aurora canted her head until her cheek rested against Maleficent's shoulder. She seemed to sense the faery growing uncomfortable, for the subject changed. "Where is Diaval?"

And it was a subject change that made Maleficent relieved, and a little curious as to the gift Thistlewit had bestowed upon Aurora. "The Castle. He is listening for what they plan to do."

"And if I don't want to do what they plan to do?" Aurora pulled away only enough that she could see Maleficent's eyes as the faery answered.

"We will cross that bridge when we reach it; but you will not have to make that choice now." or for a while yet to come." Maleficent reached out with both an arm and a wing to carefully bring Aurora back. "Tonight and for the next few days, you are free of any expectations, I promise you."

Aurora lowered herself back against Maleficent's side, and the two of them fell once again into a comforting silence as they waited the return of Diaval and the news he would bring.


	4. Chapter 4

Aurora was the picture of poise and grace, positioned in the center of the dais. The sunlight cascaded down and around her, a resplendent cloak of gold that was the envy of every kingdom known upon the various maps and charts. Upon her head, the crown was heavy but it was a weight she'd grown accustomed to over the long years.

In front of her, pushed down upon his knees and his eyes filled with equal measures of terror and worship, the emissary of the Jade Empire begged for, not his life, but for Aurora to reconsider the offer of tribute in lieu of the conquest three seasons in the making. His hands glittered and shone with the fabled stone of his land, but what use was the trinkets of man when the Moorlands provided glory and wealth beyond human imagining.

She looked to her advisers for suggestions. They were torn between continuing the motions for war and taking the tribute. Her father, in particular, wanted to push forward with the conquest because if they merely took without a show of effort, it could be seen as weakness or mercy later on.

It is later, in the war room, that a contemplative moment in front of the horns that serve as her own personal trophy, that she found she agreed with him. And when that proud gleam glinted in his eye, she knew she'd made the right choice.

It is not much later after that when Aurora jerked upright and found herself confined underneath the heavy weight of wings and the cool, refreshing air of the Moors was instead sharp and icy as she sucked it down into her lungs. She pushed and struggled, and it took a second or two, but the wing rose away like a curtain.

Aurora dove forward and caught herself on her knees, one hand braced against a root as she gasped and exhaled. She sputtered and shivered and tried to forget the sound of screams and the painful thrum of iron.

The faery behind her took a little longer in waking up, or she'd been awake all along; because she can feel Maleficent's eyes upon her back and she could picture the look of anguish and indecision on the woman's face as she fretted on how to help. There was the movement of air and fabric, and Aurora can picture it crystal-clear in her mind as Maleficent stretched out a hand and pulled it back all in one motion.

She must still remember the vehemence Aurora directed at her when she'd revealed the truth two days prior. Aurora did. Remembered vividly that she'd called Maleficent evil when she'd not yet understood the depth and weight of such a title.

"Aurora." Maleficent's voice is pained. "Aurora, what is it?"

Aurora wondered, bitterly, if Flittle's wish for her to never be blue meant that it would only banish the melancholy times, because Aurora did not think she could describe the mix of despair and fear and guilt as anything but black.

"What if I hadn't of snuck out of the room?" She asked, more out loud than to Maleficent behind her. "What if Father had greeted me the way I'd always dreamed of? What if —"

"There are so many what ifs that you will make yourself sick with the thought of them all." Maleficent still has not touched her and Aurora is at once grateful and spiteful for it. She's unsure if she'd rather welcome the touch of the faery woman, or duck away because the dream is still pressed at the very edge of her unconsciousness. "Now, tell me a little of what troubles you and let us see if we cannot bring a smile back to your lips before the dawn."

Aurora shook her head. Stopped. Shivered. Looked out at the castle barely visible in the fog of the late night. "Did Diaval come back?"

"No."

"Do you think he's all right?"

"Yes."

Aurora frowned. "Are you saying that because you want me to feel better?"

"… yes."

Aurora chuckled. She couldn't help it. She turned and Maleficent wore a displeased expression. She reached up with her free hand and wiped at her eyes. She sniffled once and then turned around to sit opposite of Maleficent, who had quickly lost the displeased look in favor of concern. "I want to say this sitting here… and then …" she took a breath for courage. Maleficent had not lied to her when it mattered. Aurora wouldn't — couldn't not do the same. "And then if you still want to call me Beastie and want me here —"

"Beastie," Maleficent interrupted. "I did not fight through a maze of Iron and wake you from a powerful curse just to suddenly despise you for a simple dream." She smiled, but reassuring was not a look Maleficent had worn in a very long time.

"This dream you might."

Maleficent arched a brow at the sullen challenge. "Try me."

Aurora worried at her lower lip with her teeth. She rested her chin on her knees and stared up into the clouds that obscured the stars. "I dreamt that I'd become a Queen."

"That doesn't sound so terrible that you'd wake up in a fright about it."

"A Queen like my Father was King." Aurora lowered her gaze and wished for the countless time that Maleficent was not so talented in schooling her face into that neutral mask. "I'd conquered the Moors, and I'd conquered other lands. I took and I took and no one denied me because they loved me."

"Aurora —"

"Let me finish! Please."

Maleficent held her tongue and gestured for Aurora to continue.

"I was everything you said my father became and —- and I was greedy and selfish and cruel and violent and no one could stop me because why would they? They loved me. Beloved by All."

"Aurora."

Aurora shook her head violently. "I'm not at the… at the worst part." She lowered her head and focused upon Maleficent. "The worst part was I'd taken a trophy from the Moors. Like … like my father." She watched Maleficent's wings furl tight against her back, then carefully spread once again, slow as the opening of a flower. "Your … horns."

"My …horns?" Maleficent reached a hand up and ran the fingers along the roughness of the horns that curled from the top of her head. "Why?"

"I'm not used to you with wings, I suppose."

Maleficent's laugh was mirthless. She broke the stare, her focus gravitating beyond Aurora. "That was your dream then?" Aurora nodded. "And it is what woke you so terribly?" Aurora nodded again, and hated that all she could do was nod as an answer. Maleficent sighed, then spread one wing out, stretching it to the side. The feathers were dark and the night's mist had left speckles of dew upon them. She lowered her head back against the trunk of the tree and her eyes closed.

"Godmother?"

"I am tired from yesterday's flight because I feel like I have gained far too much weight eating all of those berries you demanded every evening and my wings are not used to such decadent meals."

"…Godmother?"

"The last time I invoked so much magic was the night I tried to revoke your curse, and it is exhausting unweaving spells."

Aurora frowned. That was not an answer either, and the wing was still spread in an inviting manner. At the silence, Maleficent cracked open an eye and gave her a dreadful look.

"It is also cold for a summer's night and you, Beastie, are quite warm."

"You're not… but my dream—"

"Was a dream, Aurora, and nothing more." Maleficent's voice softens the blow of the words. "You are not your father's daughter and you never will be."

Aurora didn't feel as certain and she balked halfway through the walk back to Maleficent's side. "You don't know that."

"Yes, I do." Maleficent shut her eyes, the matter finished in her mind.

"How?"

"Because I am your Fairy Godmother and we just know these things." Maleficent cracked open that eye again, and Aurora saw the gleam of gold there that revealed underneath the ill-tempered mannerisms, Maleficent was not angry. Tired, perhaps, but not angry.

Aurora smiled and felt a little of that weight leave her stomach as she scrambled back to where she'd been. The wing settled back upon her like a curtain, and she laughed now, carefully pushing at the joint until her head popped over the feathers. "I can't breathe when you do that!"

Maleficent's body shook softly with silent laughter, but her tone was indifferent. "Are you sure?" The wing rose up and covered Aurora again. "Oh, how dreadful. It seems they're still weak." The wing went slack and Aurora yelped when that weight fell upon her. Feathers and laughter surrounded her.

"They are not!" Aurora giggled, and desperately tried to shove the wing up and away. She managed to hold it above her hand, arms straight.

"How would you know? They're not your wings." Maleficent sniffed, haughty. "Now, be a good Beastie and stay just like that, you'll keep the dew off of us."

"Hmph." Aurora let go and the wing rustled in the breeze before coming down feather soft around her. She tried to fix Maleficent with the sternest of glares she could muster, but the faery was immune. Or asleep.

Soon, Aurora was too, and whatever dreams followed her into that slumber did not disturb her for the remainder of the night.


	5. Chapter 5

Diaval's arrival woke Maleficent. She'd been drifting close to wakefulness for a little while now, and only refused to climb that last edge of slumber unless it was needed, and the return of the raven was enough to justify pulling out of that dreamlike state with reluctance. She was warm, felt at ease, and Aurora had finally slipped into a restful sleep that was completely deserved and needed. Still, time did not stop for anyone, not even the timeless inhabitants of the Moorlands, so as the day broke with the overcast of clouds, so too did Maleficent find herself roused with it.

"Into a Man," she greeted the raven after he'd landed upon the damp grass. She watched him transform and studied his face for any sign of the news he'd brought, or why it had took him nearly a day. Her eyes raked his form for new bruises, or wounds but found nothing.

Diaval peered at the tree. "Why are you not at your nest?"

"It is not a nest." That was an argument they'd run ragged over the years but no matter how many times Maleficent reminded the raven that her home was a proper Great Tree, he called it a nest; and then proceeded to build a nest in it, claiming that as her wings, it was his home as much as hers.

"It is a nest. You sleep there, you are safe there, and one day you will raise a hatchling there." He twisted around to spy the Rowan Tree from where they sat, but the mist and fog was thick that morning and made it appear as if the cliff they were on was one of a few points of land left in an ocean of clouds. "I will raise more hatchlings there too one day."

"What?"

Diaval glanced her way and pretended he didn't notice the incredulity of her tone. "In time, when I have talked with a she-raven who is willing to take upon the same enchantment you have bestowed upon me. I'd like to hope our chicks will have the magic in their bones that they will know how to change with their own thoughts." He smiled towards the mop of golden curls that was the slumbering princess, the subject done for now. "How is she?"

"She had a rather frightful nightmare, and I find myself hoping that Flittle is strong enough with magic that her silly little wish quickens the trauma of her birthday into an unpleasant memory and nothing more." Maleficent untucked her wing enough to allow herself a moment to brush a stray curl back behind Aurora's ear. "Speaking of those three, do you know what Thistlewit's wish was? I'd left before she'd done it, and you know they must have tried something to break the curse themselves."

Diaval shook his head.

"Shame. That means I'll have to talk to the little halfwit and it takes a lifetime to get them to answer anything properly." Maleficent kept her gaze on Aurora and turned the conversation towards more pressing matters. "How are things over there?"

"It's hard to say. It's still practically impenetrable save for the window you shattered, but the guards are leery of any ravens or crows, so I had to wait until nightfall to slip in, and then escape before morning. I was warned by the mated pair who used to use one of the undersides of a tower roof that my kind is not particularly welcomed right now."

Maleficent shrugged. It had been a desperate decision to change Diaval's shape into something that had long since left the world for whatever lay beyond even Maleficent's awareness, but it had saved Aurora.

"The Captain of the Guard is maintaining order, it looks like; and the human council is arranging the funeral for the king in two days time as is custom for them."

"What are they saying about Aurora?"

Diaval scrunched up his nose as he tried to recall what he'd seen and overheard. "She's not disinherited, if that's your concern. Apparently it is …proper… for children to spend time in seclusion after the death of a parent so the Captain is using that as the excuse to keep the common humans calm. I did not sense any spark of dissent or disagreement with the succession. Aurora's bloodline is royal, and I believe that means something with humans?"

"It does."

"I would expect a visit from the Captain soon, though because they spoke of ways to approach the Moors without "incurring the wrath of the Fair Folk's Queen" … I think it would be a good thing to meet with him." He fidgeted under Maleficent's curious look. "We want peace now, right?"

"…yes." She knew she sounded at odds with that answer, and she felt at odds with it because one simply did not wipe away seventeen years of bitterness, hatred, and revenge in less than a week, yet she had to try. She had promised Aurora to keep her safe all of her days, and she could not do that if the Kingdom and the Moorlands were once again at war. "Yes, we should try for peace."

"Then it would be a gesture of good will and if we meet them beyond the boundary markers they won't step into the Moors."

"I have not interacted with a human who is not Beastie for a very long time. I don't think I would be the best emissary, Diaval."

"Then grant me this shape and let me speak for you." He straightened himself before her, standing like she'd seen human soldiers at attention once, long ago. "Let me speak for you, Mis… Maleficent. Nothing formal. Just ….lines of communication between territories. I once brokered a truce between a great owl and my father for a winter when the food was scarce and the winds were too terrible for any bird to fly for long."

Maleficent remembered that winter. She'd been just shy of a decade, with her wings still ungainly and her world contained solely within the boundary markers of the Moors. She'd been grateful for the massive wings she'd been born with, for the feathers had proven excellent insulation against the bitter cold and it was the summer afterwards that she'd finally mastered flying without it looking as awkward as a fledgling's first flight.

Diaval tilted his head to one side, and the birdlike movement drug Maleficent away from the past. "It's my sister's territory now, actually. Well, her and her mate's. Or maybe my youngest brother because he didn't seem the type to spend years in a roost like proper ravens do. He began courting this one girl before his second summer — far too young if you ask me."

"You don't know?"

"We are very territorial, and once we reach a certain age … well … birds like things settled and understood and … it has been a very long time since I was just a raven, Maleficent. I wouldn't really belong with her, or him, or with a roost."

Maleficent frowned, and did not like the feeling of remorse that was within her. There were times she wished she'd been born a flower pixie so her emotions would be shallow and few, not this array of colors that tinted her world every time they rose up. "I did not intend —"

"Neither do I believe you did, but here we are and to worry about the past is to drop a snake in the nest. Only causes trouble and you lose an egg or three." Diaval grinned, and she could sense nothing false about him. He stared at her with the same gaze he'd used whenever he was concerned for her.

She averted herself, feigned interest in the way the grass rippled with the wind. She collected herself until she could look at Diaval once again without losing all composure entirely. Her words started soft and unsure for she was not used to being kind. "If … you do find yourself a she-raven who is willing to put up with your inability to be anything but annoying —" Even the grin he still kept was annoying. She pitied the bird that would be charmed by Diaval one day. " —-stop that. You are not as charming as you think you are."

"Yes, Maleficent."

"… " Her wings bristled, and she fixed him with one of her best glares. It worked on Border Guards and Pixies and Wallerbogs, but he kept grinning. Which was impossible because her glare worked on everything. Ravens included. "I don't like you."

"As long as you don't hate me."

"Hmph. As I was saying before you interrupted me, yes, the hatchlings you may have one day could be infused with the glamour that brings you between forms, but I cannot bestow it upon you directly. You were born a raven and I cannot change you into one of the shifting phoukas."

"Oh."

"However," Maleficent took a steadying breath. She had released him yesterday, and he had claimed to be her friend but how long would he want to stay nearby once she'd truly granted him his wings back? There was a coil of selfishness in her that wanted her to remain silent, and to not bestow such a gift upon him so he would always need to return. She crushes it down. "If you find me something sentimental to you, well…" she trailed off with a shrug of the wind not curled about Aurora.

Diaval leaned forward. "You would do that?"

"Have you not earned it?" Maleficent held up a hand when Diaval began to speak. "Do as I say, Diaval, if you wish to be now my emissary."

He closed his mouth, inclined his head, and took off in flight down to the Raven Tree when she murmured her incantation. As the gold of her magic left the air, Maleficent felt Aurora stir.

"There's going to be a funeral?" Aurora's eyes were still lidded with sleep, and she'd not moved from her position beyond that initial stretch.

"Yes, Diaval said it would be in two days time." Maleficent rested her head back against the tree and idly wondered if the sky would remain overcast, or if it would be broken up before the afternoon. "Would you like to go?"

"I don't know." She could feel Aurora's confusion as a tension throughout the girl's body. "Is that terrible of me?"

"No."

"Are you saying that because you can't see me as something terrible?"

"You are a terrible little beastie, does that count?"

"I don't think so. Would you go with me?"

"Yes." There was no sun to saturate her body with a warm lethargy, and while she could as a faery lounge within the center of the strongest tempest nature could ever muster, Aurora was not, and humans were not meant for exposure to the elements. So Maleficent carefully extracted herself, wings shifting and allowing the chilly morning into the warmth of the cocoon of feathers. "Come along, Aurora."

Aurora stretched a second time as Maleficent rose to her feet. She yawned and rubbed at her eyes, and Maleficent was struck by how young the girl still was. Aurora didn't move from her slouch against the tree, and gave the sudden loss of her feathery blanket a petulant stare.

"If you were a storm nix, I wouldn't mind leaving you up here all day, Beastie, but as you are not crafted from the lightning and rain, I suggest we retreat to the valley."

Aurora's eyes widened and she seemed to catch on to the day promising a less than sunny afternoon. She went to Maleficent's side, and then hesitated. "Am I to meet you at the bottom, then?"

"Hmm?" Maleficent had faced into the oncoming wind. It was a little more than a young gust, not fully grown into the gale it could be, but she'd spread her feathers out to catch the air all the same. "If you think that's best."

"How else am I going to get down?" Aurora inquired, and it sounded innocent. She stared at Maleficent's wings with such a wonder though, that the faery knew the question was asked for the sake of politeness.

"Hold on to me."

Aurora doesn't need to be told twice. She swept in under the grand wings and curled her arms tight to Maleficent's waist. She tucked her head once again so she could watch the flight from the security of the faery's arms.

"Shall I dive or glide down?" Maleficent could feel the thud of Aurora's heart against her own and she tightened her own arms about the girl. She knew her own preference.

"What would you do?" Aurora sounded bold in her arms and Maleficent grinned.

Her wings snapped straight out and she was certain in the embrace before she took that step forward. Aurora's breath caught in mid-exhale, and she squeezed tighter, but she didn't protest. Maleficent took that second step, and then the third.

Then she stepped off the earth. Her wings knew what to do. They snapped back close to her body and arched forward, cutting a profile for Maleficent as the faery threw her and her young charge into the void. The cold was around them and the wind whistled sharp and long in her ears. Speed was gained quickly and it was over in seconds. Out came the wings, turning that dive into a sudden uplift over the trees still several dozen feet below them. Feathers rustled as she corrected her course and she felt rather than saw Aurora's head shift as the girl laughed and marveled at the sights around her.

Their destination wasn't too far from the cliff, but Aurora's laughter prompted Maleficent to take a lazy, long circular route, using the updrafts and wind currents to soar above the Moorlands. She indulged in some acrobatics, twirling them over in a circle until the laughter was constant from Aurora, and the girl dared to lift her head to stare out over the Moors every time Maleficent spun. The flight, which had meant to be a quick jaunt, turned into a long affair that was brought to a close only when the first drops of rain splattered against the canvas of Maleficent's wings.

She lowered them below the shelter of the treeline and her wings quivered once, twice, and then folded together at her back. Her muscles ached; she didn't mind. The Rowan Tree towered over them both and the boughs above their head kept the rain from their bodies.

Maleficent released Aurora and the princess stumbled and fell against the moss once again, much like that first night flight. "You are as clumsy as Diaval." Somewhere in the Rowan Tree, there was an angry 'AWK!'

"That was wonderful!" Aurora got to her knees, then to her feet. She rushed forward and grasped Maleficent's hands with her own. "Thank you, oh, thank you."

Maleficent smiled, her expression softening. "You are quite welcome, Beastie." She removed her hand from Aurora's own to cup the girl's cheek fondly.

Diaval hopped down from where his nest was and clutched within his beak was a soft brown feather no bigger than Maleficent's thumb. He shuffled closer and deposited it into her waiting hand. Aurora glanced towards it as well. "That looks like one of your feathers."

"Is it?" Maleficent looked to the raven. He clacked his beak and nodded. She brought the feather closer for inspection, twirling it between her fingers. "Is this what you've chosen?"

"Awk!"

Aurora smiled and trailed a finger against Diaval's head. He nuzzled her in return. "It's a good choice, Godmother."

There was an absent smile sent towards Aurora and then Maleficent pulled away to have the space to weave the glamour and magic into the token Diaval had chosen. She saw Aurora and Diaval watching her from her peripheral vision until her concentration was devoted to the task at hand and soon there was nothing but the power coursing from the ground, up through her body, and spilling into the feather within her hand. She whispered the secret words and coaxed the glamour into the very essence of the feather. The gold shimmer of her magic turned the feather bronze underneath it's light and the illuminated remained until the last of the spell was complete. When her magic faded, there was only an iridescence to the feather that gave it away.

"Aurora, fetch me some leather string from the upper branches please."

The princess scuffled up into the tree like a squirrel and spent a few minutes back and forth with Diaval looking for the right sort of leather to fit with the feather. It was comforting to hear the girl's voice so bright and Diaval's responding noises. Aurora returned with a necklace that had hung in the western branches over Diaval's nest. It was simple, with a few glass beads on it that dazzled in the sunlight.

It would do. She wound it around the feather and secured it with one final push of magic. It was complete, and looking down upon it, Maleficent found herself proud of the token, and secretly touched at Diaval's choice.

"Diaval," she began, spinning on a heel to stand before the raven, who had puffed his chest out proudly. "You were the best wings any faery could ask of a bird, and you served me grandly for the past seventeen years. Now my wings are returned to me and you have repaid your lifedebt a hundred times over." She lifted the necklace and set it carefully about the raven's head. It came to a stop, snug just above his breast. "Now I grant you wings, so you may freely go wherever the wind brings you," she paused, her eyes blurry with the beginning of tears, "and when you have found your life's mate, bring her to me and she shall be gifted the same freedom, for you are worthy of so much more than I feel I can ever return."

Maleficent bent low and brushed a kiss gentle upon his head. "You have been, and always will be my dearest friend, Diaval."

The raven clacked his beak, running it along the edge of Maleficent's wrist. When she stepped back, he flapped his wings once to leave the branch and came before them as a man. He looked to his hands, then touched the necklace around his neck. "Thank you Maleficent."

She inclined her head and allowed the moment to linger until the sound of the rain broke through. She looked up towards the two and tried her best to put on a casual air. "Now, what are we going to do for breakfast? …and don't you dare say —-"

"Berries!" The two answered as one.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: **School started for the summer, and there were a few last minute adjustments needed that kept me away from writing. This chapter also saw a rewrite itself, as I decided to use Maleficent's P.O.V for the actual funeral itself. Thank you everyone who's replied, and thanks to those who don't leave feedback but like/reblog this all the same. :)

* * *

Over the next two days, shadows from the curse crept forward to darken the light that always dominated Aurora's life. She started to fear going to sleep as time returned memory to her of that hauntingly sibilant whisper guiding her through the castle, down and down into the bowels of iron and stonework. She heard it in the way the wind whistled through the leaves, or in the stirring of the nocturnal creatures of the Moorlands. The babbling brook that branched off from the closest lake would startle her when she fell into a light doze. And whenever she finally sucummbed to sleep after Maleficent spent hours distracting her until exhaustion overrode fear, she threw herself violently from nightmares that plagued her mind.

Was this what it was like when her father started to go mad?

Maleficent stiffened at the question every time she asked even as she pulled Aurora into the shield that was her wings and soothed away the visions, doing her best to not let Aurora see the tiny ways the guilt was obviously affecting the faery as well.

Instead of telling Aurora more about her father, Maleficent told the young Princess about the time after she'd woken by the lake without her wings, and how she'd felt her world's color disappear little by little. She sympathized with Aurora's concerns of madness and worked with the night-terrors by giving the awkward comfort that only Maleficent could manage.

The only time she'd pulled away from Aurora, the wings furling tight to her back in retreat was when Aurora asked if Maleficent thought Aurora could potentially wind up like her.

That second night, Maleficent left Aurora with Diaval and wandered deep into the Moors, away from Aurora's apologetic cries.

Diaval was a comfort but she'd grown accustomed to the weight and warmth of feathers and the raven could only assure Aurora that she'd not sent Maleficent away forever, and that even faeries needed time to fly alone and gather their thoughts.

"She Cursed herself as much as she Cursed you." He said, his hand supportive upon her shoulder, "and I don't think she knows how to deal with that."

"I hurt her feelings, though." Aurora stared at her hands, the rich soil of the Moorlands underneath her fingernails.

"Yes, but your question was honest. The Fair Folk never lie, Aurora, even if the truth will scorch the earth and bring pain with every breath. They live for so very long that they face even the cruelest of truths eventually." He went silent then, and his eyes lifted up to the moon that bathed the world in silver. "All right, little bird, up and up. You need to preen yourself before you head to the castle. It's not so long a flight, but for a horse, it'll be a journey best done before daybreak."

"Huh?" Aurora remembered almost immediately afterwards. "Oh, yes, the funeral. Are you two coming with me?"

"If you ask it of me, it will be done."

"And ...Godmother?"

"She would never leave you alone." Diaval squeezed her shoulder. "Now, I'll head to the cottage to pick out a dress for you, because I think if I let you out of the Moors, Maleficent will turn me back into a dog."

"Wasn't it a wolf?" She'd heard this story a dozen times already, but loves that they have included her in the tale, allowing her the ability to tease and share in the memory. She had been there after all, just ...sleeping.

"You too?" He clutched at his heart in mock-pain. "A betrayal from my very own fledgling. Wolves and dogs are all the same horrible beasts. You know they hunt birds?" He didn't expect her to answer that and they share a smile. "Any color you'd like?"

"I don't know. I've never been to a funeral before. Well … I wore pink at the funeral Auntie Flittle held for her favorite butterfly in the rafters." Diaval gave her a strange look before he was a raven and aloft in the air. He disappeared into the darkness of the Moorland night and Aurora was left to herself.

Diaval'd been correct; she did need to clean up, and if he went to fetch clothes for her, she could take the time to wash off.

So she went to the water and went further, beyond the shore and the grassy bank. The stream that bubbled alongside the hill that rose up to hold the Rowan Tree was cold, but refreshing on her skin. She splashed and scrubbed at her body until the dirt under nails was gone and her body was accustomed to the water itself. She'd picked a sheltered eddy, where the current was slow and sweet and made for a pool that she could dive into, pretending that the world was nothing more than the glimmering underwater landscape about her. Her hair floated about her and the jeweled rocks along the body reflected a rainbow over her body. She did this a few times, each time trying to hold her breath for a little while longer. She counted in her head, and by the eighth time she managed to reach one hundred. When she rose up for air, she heard voices.

Maleficent had returned, as had Diaval. They were down the bank, closer to where the current was white-water in it's quickness before spilling off a small precipice back into the lake proper.. The pair stood side-by-side, with their gaze out over the waters and across it to where the craggy cliffs began.

"Do I even want to know what you turned the horse into to bring him back here so quickly?" Diaval never kept his voice low. Ravens were not known for whispers. Maleficent, on the other hand, was hard to hear. Most of her response was lost over the sound of the stream and the noise of the night.

"I didn't lose her! She's over in that little section over there. No, I haven't gone to check." He darts sideways when Maleficent's wing furls outward. "What?" He frowned and held up the linen bag. "I went to grab clothes! I have a dress for her here, it's the pink one. I think it's pretty."

Maleficent turned on a heel and stalked over to the Rowan Tree, dismissing his words with a wave of her hand.

"Can't she just shake off the water like a proper bird?" Diaval set the bag underneath one of the roots and watched as Maleficent moved through the tree, ducking her head into hollow after hollow until she came away with a bundle of fabric.

Maleficent jumped from the low, wide branch and just shook her head. She approached the little grove, and Aurora saw the way her body shifted to announce her arrival. Her steps grew loud over the grass when they were once silent. Her wings curled out from her body and ruffled in the breeze. There was the swish of her robes, and of course…

"Beastie? I do hope you've not drowned yourself."

Aurora sunk low in the pool. "Not yet Godmother."

"May I sit on the rock nearby?"

Aurora nodded, then realized when Maleficent stayed where she was that the faery couldn't see her. "You may."

Maleficent rounded the willow tree and claimed the large flat rock for herself after setting the bundle of fabric near enough that Aurora could grab it from the water. "Diaval chose well for you but forgot that you would need something for the remainder of the night as well. As you are incredibly short for a human girl, I found one of my old tunics. I hope you don't mind."

Aurora pouted. "I am not that short!"

"Terribly short, I'm afraid." Maleficent's smile was a closed one, but her eyes crinkled in softness. "I fetched a horse for you for tonight's ride if we want to arrive for tomorrow evening, which is when they'll hold it."

"My horse is at the castle, though?"

"Yes, which is why I've approached the ones who live here. One young colt offered to carry you, he considers it quite the privilege." Maleficent leaned back onto an elbow and looked heavenward at the stars. "He is as fast as flight, I promise you."

"You don't want to carry me?"

Maleficent rolled her head to the side, her green-gold gaze finding Aurora's own eyes in the night. "Want has nothing to do with it, Aurora. You are, for the moment, the future Queen of the Kingdom in their eyes."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

Maleficent's body rose and fell with the sigh she gave. "Everything. A Queen does not arrive to a social affair within the arms of her Fairy Godmother. It will make you appear childlike when you need to appear …"

"I don't want to appear as anything."

"Aurora, I understand, but we need to show that you are … comfortable in both worlds. That you were not bewitched or stolen."

Aurora swam closer to the bank and lifted up to rest her arms on one of the rocks herself. Chin tucked down, she stared at Maleficent with a curious glint in her blue eyes. This didn't feel like the casual knowledge Maleficent revealed when she spoke of the various fae; this felt serious. It showed in the way the faery held herself, as if she'd been practicing the words.

Maleficent tilted her head to the other side, clucking her tongue. Something weighed on her, Aurora can see it in the way her wings swung low and curled forward. Aurora had learned, quick, to tell the subtle difference between the arch of Maleficent's brow when she was annoyed or amused. Or how her mouth curved up to the side when she was trying to cover up an actual smile. All of that seemed for naught when those wings revealed secrets in seconds when Aurora struggled to uncover them over days. Despite that chink in her armor … "You should dry off, we've got a very long trip ahead of us."

"Godmother?"

Maleficent got to her feet and left the grove. Her steps were heavy and her wings dragged behind her until they finally curled close, the last piece of armor set into place.

Moonlight illuminated the path, and the barren ground where the Wall of Thorns used to stand. The dirt was churned like a plough had been taken to it, rocks and roots overturned and all along the Moorlands as a terrible reminder was the black strip of land. No faery lights flickered through that empty space, and for the short time passing over it, the only sound was the hooves of her horse, and the soft rustle of wings above her.

Aurora herself is tucked within her blue cloak, dressed in the garments Diaval collected from the cottage. She occasionally glanced upward to where Maleficent flew overhead, but the faery did not turn to meet her gaze. Diaval spent his time flying above and then next to the horse's head. If a raven could look apologetic, he did. Aurora understood. Maleficent was a private, aloof woman, and pushing her too far past her comfort zone resulted in a night of silence as the faery collected herself and recovered what she thought lost concerning her pride.

Morning came when they were riding past the pasture and fields of the humans who didn't overly mind the closeness of the forest and the Moorlands beyond it. The sun glittered over the wheat like spun gold. Aurora watched as the farmers went into the fields to work and how Maleficent swept down to the road and Diaval landed upon her shoulder..

The faery folds her wings upon her back like they were a dark cloak. Only her horns gave her away as something beyond human. Still, no one stared overly-long at riders on the road. Not when there was work to be done.

Maleficent walked close enough for conversation, and so Aurora attempted it. "Why do you think they're working? Wouldn't they be at the funeral? One of the books in the cottage started with a grand royal funeral and the whole kingdom showed their respects."

Maleficent looked to the right, as the farmers brought the plow to the oxen. "This is not a kingdom in mourning," she murmured. "I would expect that King Stefan's madness weighed heavy on those at the bottom of this world, and I do not think they care that he is gone."

Aurora looked closer to the cottages, and at the road itself. Her eyes raked over the barns and the sheds and she saw the neglect of years in the way the stones were misplaced and cracked, and how the roofs were ill-suited for anything but the best of summer days. She looked beyond the buildings and to the people themselves. She saw how their clothes hung loose on their frames, and the weariness in their movements.

"Did my father cause this?"

"I would believe so. I understand that the defenses your father built were not built freely."

Aurora noticed another thing, and this brought her to squeeze her knees carefully against the horse's side to bring him to a halt. "Maleficent, where are the men?"

"I wouldn't know, I tend to keep to the Moors, Aurora."

They both looked towards a sudden cracking of wood and Aurora was off her horse in an instant, ducked under the fence to rush over and offer the brace of her shoulder next to an elderly woman struggling to keep a stockpile of barrels from collapsing. There was a flare of gold, and the barrels were locked into place by vines that were as thick as Aurora's palm.

"Aren't you an angel from above," the woman's voice was a breathy sort, her smile tense from the pain of becoming a human stopgap, but it was genuine in it's gratitude.

Aurora felt her cheeks flush. "Oh, no. No. I just, I'm used to helping. When I was thirteen, the barn wall crumbled in and I had to spend the afternoon pushing on the hay bales so Auntie Thistlewit could …" she stopped as the awareness that her three aunts were actually three pixies suddenly made the idea of Thistlewit repairing the wall so much more believable.

"You're a blessing in disguise, then, if you're no angel."

Aurora couldn't help but to smile, but set a hand upon the vines that secured the barrels. "It wasn't just me…"

The peasant woman quirked a brow. She spied the vines and then turned to look upon Maleficent's horned visage. With the sun behind her, the faery was a tall, ominous shadow; yet the woman didn't shy back.

"One of the Fair Folk?" She seemed surprised, but not afraid. Cautious was the word Aurora thought when she watched the old woman. "We have not seen one of your kind for a very long time."

Maleficent tilted her head up, chin haughty, but spoke in time. "Yes."

"Then my thanks to you as well. These barrels are precious. With my sons in the mines, I don't have the hands around to transport these to market and either I'm getting older, or these barrels are getting heavier every year. The old straps used to be enough."

Aurora giggled softly.

"Now, are you Lord Brant's daughter? I think I remember you from the festival three years back. You've certainly grown since then."

"Oh, no… no… I'm…" Aurora stopped, then looked to Maleficent for advice.

"Lord Trevor's ward, coming to court for the season." Maleficent interjected, her hand tight upon the staff. For support or otherwise, Aurora couldn't tell.

The woman clucked her tongue. "His trade caravans always used to come through here; we used to tease that it was their thirst that kept the ale flowing. After that Wall went up though, the forestry trade wasn't so well-received. The King didn't trust what came out of the eastern woods .. um, no offense meant." She ducked her head towards Maleficent.

The faery waved her hand. "The Moorlands are better for the loss of King Stefan's interest, though I am apologetic it hampered your way of life."

"Oh, tosh, no worry. We're far enough from the forest that the castle doesn't mind drinking the ale and eating the harvests. The nobles have their spats all the time. This generation it was the Moors; next generation? It'll be trouble somewhere else. It's the games they've always played." She brushed her hands off on her apron. "I'm Gemma, and I am old enough to remember my manners. Come, break bread with me and allow me some repayment for your aid."

Aurora turned to look towards Maleficent, who drummed her fingers along her staff. Diaval caw'd softly from the nearby fence post. The longer the faery went without speaking, the lower Aurora's hopes got. Until Maleficent inclined her head.

"On one condition, that we share this meal outdoors."

Gemma smiled, and the expression youthened her. "Of course."


	7. Chapter 7

For a human, Gemma was a respectful hostess. She brought out a fluffy bread that had been sweetened by the juice of berries and honey, and a cider that she promised did not bring about the confusion of alcohol. She'd not even batted an eyelash at Maleficent's not-so-subtle flicker of magic that rolled along the food for trickery.

Maleficent still knew all too well the price of trusting a human's hospitality at face value. Her wings might have been returned, but that night was as vivid as if she'd experienced it only the day before. It had haunted her, and it would haunt her for longer than she'd care to grant it power.

Aurora was not so understanding, and gave Maleficent a scolding sort of look that appeared as if she'd been learning from Diaval.

As they broke bread and drank the cider, Gemma answered the hundred and one questions Aurora couldn't help but ask. Maleficent listened in as the old woman discussed her trade as a brewer, and then onto the family that used to fill the house. The longer Aurora and the brewess talked, the more Maleficent realized that the old woman was as desperate for conversation as Aurora seemed to ever be.

"Like birds in the morning," she chuckled softly, and Diaval ruffled his feathers in agreement.

Gemma revealed her reasons for being comfortable around Maleficent when Aurora finally mustered the courage to ask it, for everyone in that small shaded area knew that Maleficent was not an unassuming faery to be taken so lightly at first glance. The old woman talked about her early childhood as a woodcutter's daughter along the river that flowed from the headlands in the Moors. How her father had a respectful association with a faery-man with horns that reminded Gemma of the dragons in the stories he told; "Like your own, Lady Protector."

Maleficent stilled at the tale. She didn't want to partake in the conversation. Just because she liked Aurora enough to face a maze of iron did not mean she was ready to make friends with any human… but she was curious, and curiosity has been one of the few traits she couldn't tamper. "Did you know his name?"

Gemma rocked back in her chair and tutted while she went through her memories. " … Lysander. Yes, that was the name." Her eyes glittered, giving the brown a touch of gold as she wandered through what must have been pleasant memories. "He was tall, and kind - very kind to my sister and I. It was Lysander who blessed my sister and her husband for their pastures to be green and the sheep to be healthy. They're one of the few who had lands directly along the boundary stones."

"I know the place," Maleficent said, her voice as soft as Aurora's ever heard it.

"Do you? Are they doing well? I haven't been much for traveling as I became old and the messenger riders rarely go east anymore."

Maleficent thought of the pasture and the sheep, and knew that somewhere within it was an iron ring that was tossed away many years ago. "The harshness of your king's demands have hit them, but they fared well when last I flew near that way."  
She doesn't mention that she'd dismantled one of their rock walls seventeen years ago. It didn't seem … polite.

The crow's feet around Gemma's eyes crinkle with gratitude. "That is … all one can hope for."

Aurora shuffled her feet under her chair, and her hands fiddled with the hem of her cloak. Maleficent grew concerned that the girl would reveal the entire truth from earlier. True, the abandoned cottage was on the lands of the Lord Trevor, and true, that would technically make Aurora a ward of his; and she knew it was impossible to hide how special Aurora was - and even though Gemma appeared honest and decent, words she'd not associated with humans - oh.

Aurora's pinky finger had crept to the side and brushed along the side of Maleficent's hand. It was a fleeting touch, as quick as the first droplets of a summer shower, but it had happened and … and she wasn't sure she was comfortable with the way it settled her heart in her chest from the fluttery concern of only seconds previous. She pulled her hand away and then Aurora speaks.

"Has the news not reached here yet?"

Gemma hummed in question. "We are lucky if we receive word from the castle every month."

"Oh," Aurora slumped back in her seat, fiddling with the hem of her cloak again. Then she's sitting up straight. "We're on our way to pay respects. The King was slain."

Gemma hummed again, but she sat up as Aurora did. "Was he now?"

Maleficent shot Aurora a warning look, but it's completely lost on the Princess who nods once, body brimmed with the potential for secrets and excitement, just like the books she babbled on about whenever Maleficent unfortunately tilted her head to listen.

"I suppose that means we're in for a new king, then." Gemma slumped back in her chair, chest heaving with a long exhale of breath. "May this one enjoy cider and ale and lower the taxes to someone a nobleman can afford."

The wind was stripped from Aurora's sails. The girl had been eager to share in a secret, or to learn a secret and now the mystery was gone. Replaced by the routine of the common folk. Maleficent allowed herself a momentary smile before schooling her features when Aurora glanced her way, suspicious if the faery had expected the outcome.

Maleficent must have succeeded for Aurora stopped studying her and returned questions to Gemma. She opens her mouth to ask, but closed it. Maleficent's next smile is inward and proud. The girl had picked up quickly how such a game was played.  
Truth was paramount. The truth could be spun as careful as silk, or stretched until it was gossamer, but it must have the heart of the matter untouched. If one never spoke of a thing, if one danced around a thing, these were acceptable. Lying though …

Maleficent asked the questions Aurora could not. "Do humans not grieve for their king?"

"Some do," Gemma shrugged, pouring herself another cup of cider. "Mostly the noble families. The ones that it actually means something to. For the rest of us? It just means that there's a new face stamped into the coins, and the taxes will rise or fall, depending on if the new king's inherited a war, or a debt." She gave Maleficent a small toast. "If you are out and about in the Kingdom, then I will like to hope that means the war is done?"

"We hope as well, it is why we are traveling as the young ward's escort." Maleficent said, and it was growing more honest in her bones every time she spoke of the peace her parents had tried desperately to broker.

"Good. Then with luck and the spirits, the taxes will fall and the men can return to the fields and their wives. Goodness knows I'm tired of assuring young Annabelle that she's not forgotten." Gemma took a long drink of the cider, then frowned. "I am sorry, sweet girl, I have never asked for your name."

Aurora looked to Maleficent, who considered. She had spied often on the humans, and listened to Stefan as he'd recite lessons to her about how and who and what was important in the kingdom. The infant had been given a name at the Christening, and then spirited away. It would probably be harmless but …

"Rose, Briar Rose." Maleficent answered for Aurora. "Her aunts were close with the Fair Folk before the Wall of Thorns. I daresay they took influence from the flower pixies with the name."

"Unusual, but pretty." Gemma toasted to the name, and drank another draught. Her dark eyes scanned the house and the yard. Aurora followed the gaze.

"Are you sure we cannot help you any more?"

The old woman clucked her tongue and shooed away the offer with a batting of her hand. "Nonsense. The Lady Protector has done a grand enough favor securing the barrels and now that they're stocked, I need only to gather my bags of ingredients and begin the next batch. It might even be ready by the next coronation. Oh! I could be the first to offer my goods and see a little luck flow this way again." She toasted to Maleficent one last time before draining the cider and setting it down upon the wooden stump that served as a table. "Thanks to your passing by."

Maleficent waved her own hand. "It was no trouble. Your hospitality has been gratitude enough." Still, she did not complain when Gemma coaxed Aurora into bundling up the rest of the bread into cloth tempered with beeswax to keep moisture out. Faeries had a sweet-tooth, and Maleficent was no exception.

It was close to midday, stretching into the afternoon when they were out of sight of Gemma's village, for that was now how Maleficent named the place in her mind. Aurora had already unraveled one of the bundled cloths and nibbled at the bread as they walked at a leisurely pace, and only once gave Maleficent a petulant pout when requested to share.

"Greedy little Beastie," Maleficent teased, and Diaval used the distraction to snatch a piece for himself.

It was the onset on nightfall when Maleficent took to the skies again and Aurora bent low over the neck of the faery-horse as they galloped to keep up with the powerful beats of Maleficent's wings. Every step brought the trio closer to the cage of iron and regretful memories, but there was laughter in the air as Maleficent ducked low to pluck fingers playfully at Aurora's hood, drawing it up and over her eyes no matter how Aurora weaved out of the way.

It was the middle of the night when Maleficent finally touched feet to earth again and led the faery-horse off the road and along the hedgerows until they were within a small wooden glen that offered privacy. She didn't wake Aurora, who'd rested upon the horse as if the fast pace was nothing more than the rock of a tree. Instead, she carefully gathered the slumbering princess in her arms. Diaval nestled into the crook of a tree nearby as Maleficent laid the girl upon a bed of cloak and moss. She couldn't rest with her yet, not this close to the castle. Instead she paced, lifted herself into the high canopy of the trees that protected them, and allowed her wings to twitch and shiver with the anxiety that rattled along her bones.

It was past the late hours of the night when Diaval takes the shape of a man and draws Maleficent down from the treetops and onto the bed of moss and cloaks. He doesn't have to do much more when Aurora turned in her sleep to the sudden proximity of warmth, and she remembered giving him thanks before sleep rushed over her.

It was the stirrings of the new day, and Maleficent is lulled awake by the tender touch of fingers grazing the tips of her wings. She is called from sleep but doesn't interrupt Aurora. Instead, her gaze is half-lidded and curious. Aurora's fingers trace the pattern of light and shadow over her wing, chasing the ripple of darkness as leaves rustle above them. The touch is comforting and Maleficent, fearing that she's addled by sleep, indulged in it until Diaval trudges into the glen. He didn't have to say anything, but when Aurora pulled away to sit up and prepare to leave, Diaval's eyes met Maleficent's own before he left to keep an eye on the far-too-energetic princess.

The high noon sun did nothing to banish the menacing air of the castle. Maleficent remembered it from the Christening and even then, even wrapped in her revenge, she could not have denied the beauty of the craftsmanship and the art in the stonework, but now? Now it was iron and steel and death and terror.

It was a cage and she found that she could not bring herself to walk any closer to it.

She found her reaction foolish. She was no child to be frightened; yet there was no Aurora trapped within to save and now that Maleficent knew the extent of the iron she couldn't justify continuing on.

"Godmother?" Aurora twisted in the saddle. "You don't -"

"I promised you, did I not?" Maleficent's voice was unwavering, but her wings flared and were restless against her back. She hated and loved that they had never learned how to be still, that they were passion and movement embodied. They betray her and she hates and loves that Aurora seems to know them as if they spoke a language as clear as the sky above them.

"I will understand, I do understand if you don't want to step back in there-"

"Aurora."

" - and I am sure Diaval can keep me safe as well - "

"Aurora."

"Then we'll return to you and we can go home -"

"Aurora!" Maleficent's voice rose, sharp and crystal. It silenced the girl and caused Diaval to look back at her. "Your safety is not negotiable. I am aware of the dangers in there and they are nothing when it comes to -"

"And what about my promise?" Aurora was now out of the saddle, hands on her hips and blue gaze as icy as the winter. "When do we get to talk about what I promised you?"

Maleficent only barely registered Diaval's turn into a raven and his flight into the sky. She was too focused on the little beastie that stalked toward her down the road. Her wings stretch out halfway in wariness. This is something new, but stubborn princesses cannot be any more difficult than moralistic ravens. "I do not understand what you are referring to."

"I promised you that when I'd come to the Moors that we would take care of eachother. That means that I get to protect you as well."

Maleficent knew she shouldn't have laughed, and she'd caught the chuckle just as it left her throat, but Aurora noticed it. "Beastie…"

Aurora didn't shy back from Maleficent's regretful approach this time, only stood her ground with her chest heaving with the exertion of her breath and her cheeks flushed with the strength of her conviction. "I don't want to see you in iron either," she whispered. "It scared me. The net. The … the damned circle. I tried to get it off of you. I did."

Maleficent closed the last remaining feet between them but still didn't reach out to touch. Her wings curled forward but even they refrained from making contact. "You gave me my wings, Aurora."

"Almost too late. Almost too late and I know I need to go in there because my sixteenth birthday gift was an entire kingdom but I don't have to do it right now and I don't want to do it when you refuse to set foot in there. If … If I am the next Queen, then I don't want to force you to ever enter that place."

"He was your father."

Aurora took a long and steadying breath. She'd really taken on some of Diaval's mannerisms in the way she allowed anger to fall from her like raindrops off of wings. She reached out, grabbing for Maleficent's hands. "He was. A long time ago."

"And who's fault is that?" Maleficent does not deny the capture of her hands. "Mine, Aurora. You need to understand that there will be very few allies."

"One, actually." The Captain of the Guard was on horseback a respectable distance away. Behind him, Diaval perched on a fence post. "However, I am your best one."

Maleficent's eyes narrowed to slits. "How convenient you were … just waiting nearby?"

"I was, actually. I doubted you'd would be interested in entering the castle again, so I waited to see if I could spot your approach and meet you halfway." He chuckled wryly, "I suppose I should have reassessed my judgement."

Maleficent did not lighten the glare she directed his way, but she nodded appreciation for the gesture all the same. "You are considering yourself our ally?"

"The Princess' ally, to be specific, but if she says to me to consider you as such, then yes, I suppose you and I would be allies as well."

"Why?"

"Because the Princess Aurora is the rightful heir to the throne, and to the throne is where my loyalties lie." The Captain said, dismounting. The scars from his first encounter with Maleficent were white against the dusky color of his skin, a everlasting reminder of the strength of the Moors defenses. He did not move closer, and did not have the air of expectation that they would move towards them.

Aurora turned around, dropping Maleficent's hands to face the man down the road. "What is your name?"

"Berend from Willowsby." Captain Berend saluted her, a hand pressed over the center of his chest. "I am your servant, Princess."

"I do not understand," Maleficent might have allowed Aurora to drop her own hands, but she hovered behind the girl, protective without being a shield. "If you are loyal to the crown, then could you not just find another king?"

"Oh, aye." Berend nods. "We could. There are at least twelve men of high enough birth that would gladly bear the weight of that golden crown. You might even convince seven of those would-be kings to leave the Moors alone if Aurora remained here. If you took the Princess back with you, perhaps ...four of those seven would be wise enough to leave be the royal bloodline and secure their hold through other means."

"What does that mean?" Aurora asked.

"Princess, as the only living descendant of King Henry, you have the strongest claim to the throne by nature of your birth. If you abdicate that claim, and the kingdom does not get thrown into civil war, then you are the strongest appeal to legitimizing another man's claim to the very throne you gave up. I am certain the faery Maleficent can bring the Wall of Thorns up once again and shield you; but at what price would your freedom cost the Moors?"

"Why are you discussing this? The girl's father is barely a week past the veil and -"

Berend's gaze was ochre as it met Maleficent's. "Because the Council is talking about it. Because the girl might be allowed her month of seclusion, but there is an empty throne in that castle that these noblemen will kill to obtain it and speaking frankly, I do not want to see those men on the throne. I have already spent thirty years watching this kingdom crumble under the greed of two kings. I would hope that a Queen could break the cycle."

"I know nothing about royalty," Aurora admitted.

"You know of loyalty?" Berend looked to her. Maleficent's wings bristled at the presumption of the question. Aurora nodded. "Do you know of wisdom?"

"I ...don't know."

He chuckled. "Do you know of justice? Of mercy?"

Aurora's head turned, her gaze met Maleficent's. Her lips curved into a soft smile. "I think I do."

"Trust?"

"Yes."

"Then you have what is needed for this kingdom. The rest will come in time."

Aurora glanced his way again. "I can't go back into that castle. Not when it is iron and they seek to harm the Moors."  
"I still do not understand what you gain from this." Maleficent moved forward, coming to a stop just at Aurora's side. "Humans always have an ulterior motive, not a one of you is altruistic."

He shrugged, hands spread wide in peace. "I suppose you're correct."

"What's yours, then?"

"I have three daughters, the youngest about Aurora's age. The oldest expecting her secondborn in the winter. I have two sons, one of whom fights in the castle's levy, and the other is a blacksmith called to make the personal arms of the royal guards. All of them with not an ounce of blue in their blood."

"So you're a family of soldiers and smiths." Maleficent shrugged a wing. "What of it?"

"That's my motivation. My family. You think you are the only one to stare up at the castle and hate the shadow it leaves over the land?" Berend shook his head. "I would like my granddaughter to run along the courtyard gardens without a care one day, and I do not see such peace if any of the twelve families takes the throne. It is not a decision made lightly, or at this moment."

"You're the one who brought it up," Maleficent arched a brow. Berend responded by beckoning them to look upon the short-cut fields along the road. They were alone for a distance all the way around them.

"Because this is the only time to speak of it. No decision can be made or acted upon until the next full moon regardless. It is tradition for the child's mourning period, and to allow the ghost of the King to leave the castle for his successor." Berend did not look remorseful at the discussion of the subject, but he did keep his words soft-spoken and patient.

"We came here for Aurora to pay her respects." It was time for change of subject. Maleficent wanted time for her to think, and for Aurora to process.

"Ah, then come with me. He is laid in state for your arrival in the stone chapel along the south road."

"Why?" Aurora asked, and Maleficent dreaded the answer. She could see it in the way Berend hesitated and knew down in her bones that if Aurora had been the child of anyone that was not the departed Queen, it was possible that this discussion would have never happened.

"Like I said, I anticipated your distrust of the castle. This is the private showing for family before he is laid in state for the kingdom to pay respects." Maleficent saw the truth in Berend's eye, but when he spoke, she could not bring herself to lay fault on him for the lie.


	8. Chapter 8

The stone chapel was set far from the well-traveled road that spun towards the castle that Maleficent had balked so suddenly at. It was small, but the lack of grandeur did not diminish from the sense of tranquility that covered the grounds. The stone was old, worn smooth from the years, and the stained glass that detailed the heroic journeys and travels of the ancient knights was dusty from lack of proper care.

The building showed the deterioration that affected the rest of the kingdom, and yet the garden was something wild and tamed at once. Flowers bloomed along winding paths of cobblestone and dirt, and further beyond them, the bushes were allowed to grow and sprawl. Vines wound up through the trees and along trellises that rested against the chapel itself.

It reminded Aurora of her cottage, and how the clearing looked every spring when her aunts would spend hours outside just working in the dirt. They might have been aloof, and perhaps not the best of caretakers, but they were the ones to spark her love of nature, and she found solace here.

Berend dismounted and looped the reins of his horse along a low-slung branch of a oak tree that dominated the southern section. Aurora dismounted as well, but did not match him with the reins. The faery-horse had needed neither bridle or saddle and the colt wandered over to sniff curiously at the flowers.

Maleficent entered last. Aurora turned to watch her, eager to know what the faery thought of the place. Maleficent's wings were tight about her, and her gaze was a sharp and wary thing as it took in the surroundings. Aurora felt anxious until those wings relaxed just a fraction, and Maleficent's chin lowered just slight enough that the princess spotted it.

The breath left her lungs in a hard exhale.

"The Pixies suggested the place."

"They did?" Maleficent and Aurora asked as one.

Berend chuckled. "Yes. They agreed that you'd probably never return to the castle and that Aurora was on her best behavior and was a 'nice little Cabbage' whenever you were out in the gardens with them."

Aurora really disliked that nickname.

"It suits Aurora." Maleficent agreed. "It doesn't suit King Stefan."

Berend took in the chapel and the grounds. "No, it doesn't."

Aurora went to Maleficent's side as the three of them walked towards the open doors. She could see the sunlight spilling through the stained-glass despite the neglect and Diaval went before them, wings beating once to usher him through the archway. Aurora sought out Maleficent's hand, carefully tangling their fingers together. Maleficent didn't pull back as the shadow of the chapel fell onto them.

Aurora wasn't sure if she reached out to offer comfort or to receive it, but the touch quieted the way her heart thudded in her chest. She didn't understand why she was nervous. Hadn't she seen him only a few days earlier, broken and battered from the fall. She remembered gasping when Maleficent had flown back through the window with King Stefan's body cradled in her arms.

They passed under the arch and into the anterior. The chapel was small on the inside as well, a private place of contemplation for a family rather than a community affair. The air was surprisingly fragrent without the smell overpowering the senses. The spirits were represented along their various pedestals, each given equal treatment.

And at the front —

"Hello again," Philip stepped forward. His smile was bright and a little crooked. "I hope I'm not interrupting. I can go if you want."

"Why are you here?" Maleficent's hand tightened with her words.

Berend answered from behind them. "He is here to make sure that the proper customs are followed as due the passing of a king. There are prayers and rites taught only to the bluebloods."

Aurora looked from the dour Captain of the Guard to Philip. "Thank you."

Maleficent did not look as grateful. Rather, she withdrew her hand from Aurora's grasp and kept near to the front door. Even with the chapel's deliberate intention to bring the beauty and freedom of nature indoors, the faery looked visibly uncomfortable. But she did not retreat out to the dirt and grass and that spoke volumes.

Philip's smile changed from hesitant and awkward to something wide and bright. He stepped into the dappled sunlight to stand respectfully at one side while Berend went to the other. Diaval comes to alight upon a pew near the front. The rustle of wings revealed Maleficent's continued presence.

Aurora approached the coffin and peered into it. She expected to feel at least a little sorrowful, but could only stare down at the man who had once been her father. Even in death he looked troubled.

"He looks like he's sleeping." She looked to Berend, and back into the coffin. "No. No, he doesn't." Her head tilted to the side and she noticed the way that the bruises and grime that she'd made out in the firelight of the Throne Room a few nights ago was carefully concealed under a strange powder. He was dressed in clothes that attempted to make him seem, well, not the man she met.

A strange thought hit her, and it is the influence of the Moors and her three aunts that she said it almost as soon as it came to her.

"This is all he's getting, isn't it?" She looked back to Berend, and watched his eyes leave her to find Maleficent's look from the archway. His gaze returned to her.

"I am afraid so, Princess."

Aurora nodded to herself, not sure how to take that information. She shifted and reached out to touch her hand to his own. It was cold and unyielding. "He had no one at the end. Even I wanted to leave the castle when they shut me up in the room. I think that is a very sad way to leave, don't you?"

No one answered her. She was all right with that. She remembered Gemma talking about the seal on the coins changing with the succession of rulership and even that felt so very sad to her. Shouldn't a ruler be mourned by the people they'd promised to lead? What did it say that the common folk only concerned themselves with how high the taxes were raised.

Aurora thought of Maleficent and how the Moors seemed to breathe when she did. The fair folk had kept a respectful - even fearful - distance from the tall faery, but they had watched her and looked after her passing with gazes filled with concern and the wish to help if only they could. The Moors loved their Protector, even as she'd carried the mantle of bitterness and revenge.

Maleficent was more a Queen than her father seemed a King.

That caused Aurora to seek out the faery again. She stepped back from the coffin and towards the archway, where the air was a little lighter and she was not expected to be anyone but herself. Maleficent extended her hand when Aurora neared, and for all the talk in the Moors two night past about appearances and first impressions, the faery did not hesitate to sweep a wing around Aurora's frame. Soon, Aurora thought, she'd not remember the distance Maleficent kept to when they first met. She's quickly grown used to the way the faery's body curved toward her, and how those wings expressed a trust and closeness that Aurora feared that Maleficent unlearned a long time ago.

Aurora hoped that she'd never see a time where those wings did not stretch out and greet her.

The curvature of Maleficent's wing means that Aurora can use the russet and gold feathers to think without being overwhelmed. They smell of the Moors and the feathers are softer than Aurora could ever imagine, but she knew that the wings held enough power to shatter the chains that kept the chandeliers aloft. They are as strong, if not stronger than what Maleficent once told her and now Aurora borrowed some of that strength for herself.

"It would be very selfish of me to run away, wouldn't it?" She asked the question aloud, not really caring who among the other four occupants answered it.

Only Maleficent's wing is unfurled. The faery is stoic against the stone otherwise. "Speak it, Aurora, and we will return to the Moors," her green-gold eyes were slitted like a cat's. Or a dragon's. "And I will personally ensure that you will never know the cruelty of this kingdom from that moment onward."

Aurora believed her. Aurora could see in the taut line of Maleficent's body that the promise would be held without compromise or complaint.

Berend took longer to answer her. "If you were my daughter, and I was not sworn to the throne, I would tell you to get back on your horse and ride as fast as you could until you are so deep within the Moors that the Fair Folk there don't even know what a human is."

Maleficent's half-lidded gaze widened at that. Even Aurora stared at the Captain in puzzled wonder. Philip was silent entirely. Only Diaval made a soft noise of suprise.

"But I am not your father, and I am promised to this kingdom through oaths that were written when the land was young so I can only tell you Princess that to be Royalty is to be chained to your people and your land through links of duty and sacrifice. What I am asking of you is selfish because you have known of this for what, five days at the most?" He did look regretful, and he is animated when he speaks. He is not Maleficent, in that his body is trained to stillness and his thoughts are conveyed solely through his words and his eyes. Berend paced, the dappled sun bringing out all the color of his skin. He spoke with his hands, in the way that his head bobbed to one side as he rolled words around in his mouth before speaking. He was energetic and Aurora felt that if she'd grown up in the castle, he would have been one of her favorite people to follow around and listen to.

"It's not selfish, Captain." She felt as if she had to assure him of that. He was only doing his duty after all. It would be like blaming a Wallerbog for tracking mud everywhere.

"It is. I want to see the men in the castle go home to their wives and families. I want to see them swing a blade in the field and bring down only the harvest for the autumn collecting. I want to see the iron stripped from the castle and the white stone gleaming in the sunlight once again. My grandfather told me once that this kingdom was happy once, and I want my children to see that it could be again." He stopped and pointed towards Maleficent. "You made a wingless faery brave iron just to see you safe, I can only imagine what a kingdom would do."

Aurora shifted. Anyone would do the same thing. She'd run through fire to rescue Maleficent if it was needed. That's just what good people did. She didn't voice that thought aloud though. She already knew it would be protested by both Maleficent and Berend.

Aurora had half-expected Maleficent to retreat from the indoors first, but it is herself that ducked out of that enclosed space to escape the sudden rush of claustrophobia and the need to be underneath only the open sky and to have grass under her feet. Her breath came fast and shallow and she had to bend over to even begin to bring it under control.  
A hand settled on her shoulder. It's not delicate and alabaster, but sun-kissed and strong. Prince Philip's smile is something careful and unassuming. It was how one smiled to assure a frightened bird. "Are you all right?"

Maleficent's eyes gleamed from the chapel.

Aurora straightened up and ducked to the side. He meant no harm, she knew that, but she is not used to someone touching her without asking first. She managed a smile. "Sorry. You startled me."

"My apologies. I seem to keep doing that, don't I?"

"I believe so." They stood opposite each other once again. Aurora could not help but admire him for the Prince really was very dashing and fit the image of such a prince in her mind when she'd been young and reading books about heroes charging off to face down the unknown. The pause in the conversation grew awkward, however.

Philip must have sensed it too because he coughed and stepped back, giving her just that much more room. "I am, ah, very glad to see that you are awake."

"Thank you."

"I really didn't mean to frighten you. I suppose I wanted to tell you that I understand a little bit of what you're feeling right now." He looked up and away from her, towards the giant oak tree. "I am to be King of my own Kingdom very soon. It's why I was traveling to meet with your father when we met." He caught Aurora's confused look and explained further. "I am … was … the youngest of my three brothers. As is tradition, when my older brothers came of age, the first was groomed to rule, the second groomed to worship, and I was to take my place as my father's diplomat."

"What happened to change that?"

Philip's expression tightened with the memory and he continued to keep his gaze averted. "He died in a jousting tournament. It was senseless and sudden."

Aurora hesitated but stretched out her hand to brush comfortingly along his forearm. "I'm sorry, Philip."

He did not shy away from comfort, and he really was very handsome to look at. Even more so when he delicately grabbed her hand and squeezed it in gratitude. "When he passed, my older brother had already taken his vows to serve the spirits and that cannot be broken - not even to claim a kingdom - so it fell to me. I did not expect it."

"I just found out I was a Princess a few days ago, and that I was cursed to an eternal sleep." Aurora couldn't help but laugh, a little, at the situation. "I'm still playing catch up, I'm afraid."

"Don't apologize. I ran off for a month when I found out. Just climbed into Samson's saddle and rode south for all I was worth. If I had the Moors near my kingdom, I might have ran into them instead."

"Maleficent would have been very grouchy at that."

Philip laughed. "Yes, I suppose she would have."

The two of them turned to look at Maleficent whom did not appreciate being the center of attention. Those luminous eyes narrowed as Maleficent kept her eyes upon her young charge. The two royals fell into another silence, but this one felt lighter, and far more natural. Aurora's horse had finished his investigation of the oak tree and had moved toward a small bubbling fountain.

"Lady Aurora," Philip started, "might I offer a compromise that could appeal to your obvious love for the Moors and to your duty as heir."

Aurora turned to him, though she held Maleficent's gaze until the last possible second. "You may, and please, just call me Aurora."

"Very well," he bowed his head. "Aurora. You do not have to rule from the castle."

"I don't?"

Philip shook his head in agreement. "Indeed. Your father was probably stationary within the castle itself because of the kingdom's at-war stance with the Moors. However, during a time of peace, it is expected of a ruler to travel throughout her kingdom to ensure that she's aware of all the local oddities and troubles that would need her attention."

"Travel?" She hoped she didn't sound as desperate as she felt. "You mean…"

"If you so desired, you would never have to step within the walls of that castle. The noble families might be disgruntled, but you can designate a steward to maintain the castle. It will also ease Berend's fears of the noble families because if they want to maintain their own presence in your court, they'll be jousting to be the greatest host and keeping up with your movements as well. Without the central court, it's …difficult to scheme."

"Is this true?" Aurora looked to Berend. "Can I do that?"

"It hasn't been done since one of your great grandfather's reign, but yes, the King (or Queen in this case) can travel wherever in the realm she wishes, hosted by whomever she wishes."

Aurora stepped away from Philip in the yard and towards Maleficent, who still hadn't moved and still watched her from the shadowy arch. "What do you think, Godmother? You'd be able to come and go as you pleased without ever worrying about the castle or being trapped in enclosed spaces. Could… could I even stay near the eastern forest?"

"It is the human's territory, I don't see why you wouldn't be able to."

Aurora clapped her hands together. With Philip's suggestion and Berend's confirmation, the idea of taking the throne was no longer something grim and terrible; barring her from ever going to the Moors. Instead, it sparked in her mind like the first star at night, winking to life with the hope to help others. She could help Gemma, and even foster good relations with the Fair Folk!

"Before you return to the Moorlands, and if your Protector permits it; Princess, have you ever been to a Midsummer's Eve festival?" Berend interjected, his voice breaking into her thoughts.

"No." Aurora looked to Maleficent. "Can we go?"

Maleficent's entire body shifted with the sigh, but she inclined her head and within twenty minutes, the strange fellowship of royals, guards, a faery and a raven made their way down the path toward the nearby village.


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N:** Schoolwork has cut into my free-time and these chapters are beginning to lengthen. Thank you to everyone who's reviewed, your feedback is very appreciated. Especially the reminders about grammer and tenses. I currently run text-based RPGs and have formed the bad habit of not caring about tense due to just pushing scenes forward. I will strive to make sure that doesn't linger on too much here.

* * *

"I know what you are up to." Maleficent trailed a distance behind Aurora and the young human Prince. The two teenagers had become lost in conversation, with Prince Philip regaling Aurora with stories from his childhood and time spent with his brothers. Aurora was delighted, it showed in the way she kept turning in the saddle to keep Prince Philip in her sight.

Berend had also lingered back, walking his horse instead of riding it. Much like her, he stayed a respectable distance to give the two up front privacy. He raised a brow. "Do you, now?"

"She is not a means to an end, Captain. Not even for your benevolent wishes." Maleficent watched Diaval flutter from the saddle of Aurora's horse to land on a branch further along the road. The raven waited until the humans passed underneath his perch before diving between them, showing off his own acrobatic flair before he returned to the saddle to repeat the entire affair. The prince and princess seemed to enjoy it, cheering on Diaval's swoops and flips.

"She isn't?" Berend watched Diaval's antics. "A shame you didn't feel this way sixteen years ago."

Anger flared white-hot in the pit of her stomach and crept upward until the grip on her staff would shatter anything non-magical. "How dare -"

"- Just because you grew a conscience, Lady Protector, does not mean you are exempt from what you did." Berend lifted a hand up to run along one of the prominent scars that marked his face. "You are the reason that this feels bribery for the Princess when I am simply showing her the good that is within this kingdom that she would have known had you restrained yourself."

The anger coiled tight in her chest now, and just underneath her skin, Maleficent can feel the magic crawling through her veins. Her vision is tinted at the edges with a vivid green. Her wings have flared out, arcing to either side of her. It's blatant intimidation, and it worked because Berend faltered in mid-stride.

"You understand very little, Captain, of what happened sixteen years ago."

"What I may or may not understand does not change the fact that the Princess was raised in the middle of the woods, without any human contact, and without the awareness of what she was born to do."

"I did not make him send her away." Even to her own ears, that was a weak justification, and it's one she regretted the moment she did.

Berend must have noticed the sudden creep of shame because he doesn't continue that line of conversation. He adjusted the saddle bag on his own warhorse and let that part of the past rest uneasily between them. His eyes flicker from her to Aurora up ahead. "What matters is the Princess now."

"She is far too kind-hearted for this Kingdom. Your rulers have been nothing but ambitious, violent men who have crashed time and time against the Moors. I do not even know if you have relations with other human kingdoms beyond warfare."

"There were lucrative trade routes sixteen years ago, then the textile economy collapsed. Our tailors and weavers couldn't keep up with the demand from the southern kingdoms with simple hand-spinning."

Maleficent shrugged a wing. She had not set out to crush that industry, but it had brought her vindictive pleasure after she laid the initial curse and watched the kingdom buckle under Stefan's foolish decree. As if burning all the spindles would stop such a powerful curse.

Berend ran a hand over his chin. "You know she deserves to spend time in the kingdom."

"I know no such thing." Maleficent scowled.

"You do, even if you don't want to admit it."

"The Moors can provide all that she could ever want." Maleficent knew that. After all, she'd been raised within the Moors and had turned out exceptionally well.

"I do not doubt that. Can it provide what she needs, though?"

Maleficent's wings arced forward, then rolled back against her shoulders. "Explain."

Berend's smile was a wry one. "The fact that you would require an explanation should be enough of an answer, Lady Protector."  
Maleficent fell silent. She stared down at the path they walked on, and the fight left her in a rush. The anger from earlier turned inward, into a cloying sense of guilt. She didn't need the keen sight of the eagle to notice how Aurora lit up with companionship. The girl was now regaling the young Prince with one of her earlier birthdays and it somehow involved spiders.

Berend's voice came soft. The strain to be gentle was obvious in the inflection, but he was trying. "The midsummer's festival is not just for the Princess' benefit."

"You cannot be referring to me." Maleficent's chin lifted.

"Oh, but I can."

"What benefit could it be for me, Captain?"

"That there is goodness and joy within the kingdom. The Princess loves the Moorlands, that is obvious to even the blind beggar; but you do not love her kingdom - and with understandable reason," he hastened to elaborate when she scoffed. "If the Princess is just, she will take the crown in a month."

Maleficent scowled but waved him off of explaining his thoughts further. She could follow them without him voicing them aloud. She could remember being affronted that Stefan had never warmed up to the border guards and wondered for the longest time why he could not make the attempt to see the harmony within their gnarled bodies as she could. "After the festival, I am taking Aurora back to the Moors for the remainder of the month."

Berend waited for her to continue.

"You are correct, I suppose. It is growing obvious that the more time she spends in this kingdom, the more she is considering your offer. I do not know if humans are born to their roles as faeries are …" she twirled the staff between her fingers, suddenly aware that she had only a few short months with Aurora before the girl's sixteenth birthday and a curse she thought would go unbroken; and now she had even less time before Aurora was lost to the world of men. There had been … there was so much Maleficent wanted to show the girl within the Moors.

Berend looked as if he wanted to answer her, but a piping music on the wind interrupted him. Maleficent realized that the two young humans had stopped to wait for her and the captain to catch up.

...

The sun had left it's apex and was sliding down towards the western sky, drawing long shadows throughout the farmer's field that had been transformed into a maze of market stalls and crackling bonfires. Children weaved through the crowd of adults as easy as pixies dancing in flight, and music filled the air with a upbeat, lifting tune. Truthfully, Maleficent had to begrudgingly admit that the captain's bribe was a cunning one, both for Aurora who stared at everything around her with wide eyes that refused to blink lest she missed one little detail; and for Maleficent, who was growing to understand that sheltering Aurora within the Moors was impractical. Not when the girl wandered from stall to stall marvelling at sights she'd never seen before.

The music turned Aurora's light steps into a sort of dance as the girl flitted and darted through a world new to her. The wonder in her eyes was close to the gleam that had entranced Maleficent when she'd invited Aurora into the Moors. The faery had taken to old habits, ducked into a shadowy grove to watch the girl from afar. Aurora had protested, at first, but the music and the sights tugged at her as novelty tugged at all children and soon she'd wandered off with Prince Philip and Berend at her side, the men promising to keep her safe.

"She really does belong anywhere she goes, doesn't she?" Diaval's voice is hoarse from the day and night spent as a raven. The way he came up next to her, head bobbing as he tracked Aurora's path as closely as Maleficent did was birdlike in mannerisms.

"Yes," Maleficent breathed in reply. She did not want to answer the unspoken question she could see in Diaval's eyes, but ravens were impulsive and rash creatures and cared little for ideas of silence and brooding thoughts. They lived their lives noisily, with their feelings and concerns voiced in loud, harsh tones that shattered a forest's stillness. Diaval was no different. Not even after nearly two decades wearing the skin of a man.

"What do you think of the offer of the human Captain?" He stood directly at her side and side-stepped the sweep of her wing outwards, as if it was ingrained in him to do so. "I tried to keep Aurora distracted so the two of you could speak freely. I know as well as you do that there's bad blood. You don't just eat all the mice in the owl's territory and then expect him to share the tree hollow."

She raised a brow.

"Uh, that is Aurora is the mice and the eating of is ...the stealing of her… stop looking at me like that. You know I hate it."  
She complied. She prefered keeping her eye on Aurora anyways. "Your analogies are terrible, Diaval."

"They're not terrible! It's this speech that's terrible."

"Shall I turn you into a wolf again so you can continue this baying in a form proper for it?"

He scowled and came to lean against the tree she hid behind, turning his back toward the colorful tents and crackling fires. "I can see that you're in a lovely mood."

"You do not have to stay if you think I'm ill company." She caught him with her gaze for a second, then looked away once more.

"You're always ill company when you don't like what I'm telling you," Diaval's exasperation was laced with the fondness of years together. He shuffled at her side, a human mimicry of dancing from foot to foot while a bird. "Mistress…"

She did not feel in the mood to correct him at the moment. A peevishness had come upon her since she'd spoken with the human captain. It had been obvious enough that even Aurora had caught on and quickly found reason to go venture forth outside the protection of Maleficent's wings.

Not that she minded. She preferred her space.

"Maleficent," Diaval drew her attention again. His eyes were wide and black and imploring, like he wished he could solve this dilemma for her. Her fingers twitched with the urge to change him into a raven, her hand even left her staff to come up in warning. "She's not that oblivious - she knows there's something bothering you."

"What could be bothering me? I am enjoying - I was enjoying a moment's relaxation to myself without the nagging input of a raven or the constant attention of a little beast." Her voice was high and imperious and her body ramrod straight. She even managed to keep her wings furled tight to her back and they only twitched twice to give away her agitation.

Diaval gave her a strange look. "Are you angry with Aurora?"

"What? Of course not. She is only doing what is natural for humans."

Diaval's eyes crinkled in sympathy. He knew what she was referring to. Still, he attempt to make her say it. He always made her voice aloud that which she would rather keep buried. "And what is natural for humans?"

She sidesteps the answer he's expecting with a quick shake of her head. She tensed when his hand set upon her own. A trembling noise stopped then, and she realized it'd been her staff shaking against her palm. "You are the only one who has never left me Diaval."

Diaval chuffed soft against her shoulder. "She's hardly going to leave you. Aurora adores you."

"She will leave. Maybe not for ambition, or power; but because she is young and this is a world that has been denied her for her entire life. Humans are flighty, Diaval."

"As the only avian creature in a hundred miles who has the wits about himself to speak, I would like to protest the implied insult against birdkind and suggest that you relate humans to anything else. Like dogs." Diaval sounded so affronted, and the look he gave her was so wounded, that Maleficent could not help but let out a breathless chuckle. He grinned, then leaned in close until they were shoulder to shoulder. "Maleficent, hatchlings have to leave the nest sometimes."

"Aurora is not a hatchling."

"All right, maybe she's not your hatchling, but I like to think of her as mine."

"Do you?" Maleficent furrowed her brow.

He blinked at her. Opened his mouth to speak, then thought better of it. Or, thought of something else, she couldn't tell. "Are you telling me that you think the curse kept Aurora alive?"

She shrugged. Human children were not her area of experience. "I do not know. It would have been a very poor curse if it had allowed her to die when she was sixteen months old." She frowned, puzzled at the look upon Diaval's face. "What?"

"I can't speak to you right now." Diaval stepped back and smoothed out his shirt like he was preening, an action he did when he was disgruntled. He left the shadow of the trees to stalk forward into the clearing, backlit by the bonfires.

"Diaval?" She called after him. He shook his head and threw up his arms. Along the way, he bumped into Aurora who had her arms full of small, wrapped bundles. "I am no longer speaking to Maleficent."

"All… right?" Aurora's brow knit in confusion as she stopped to watch him disappear into the crowd. Once he was gone, she continued on her trajectory to where Maleficent was. "Is Diaval all right, Godmother?"

"Who knows with that bird?" Maleficent put the matter behind her. "What are you carrying?"

"Huh?" Aurora glanced into her arms. "Oh! Come here and I'll show you! Philip was nice and let me pick out some things."

"Did he?" Maleficent was glad the human prince was nowhere in sight. She would not have been at fault if he somehow happened to turn into something neither human or princely, but then she would have to explain the sudden change to Aurora and Maleficent was certain that the young girl would not understand the irrational dislike the faery had for the boy. Or believe her about accidental magical mishaps.

"Mmhmm! If you come out here and sit with me, I'll let you see them."

"Who says I want to see them?"

Aurora smiled. "I do."

Maleficent stood still, long enough that it would have made Diaval antsy. Aurora just waited and when there was no movement from where Maleficent was, the princess shrugged her shoulders and sat down on the grass without ceremony. She unwrapped one of the bundles and an enticing smell immediately wafted to where Maleficent resided. It smelled of clover-honey with a spice that the faery had never encountered before.

It reminded her of the sweet cakes the shepherds used to leave out on the rocks for the small faeries. Maleficent only tasted one of them once, when she had begged Sweetpea, a flower faery, to go get one for her.

"What is that?"

"I thought you didn't want to see my gifts?" Aurora's tone is far too innocent for the question to be an honest inquiry.  
"I do not want to see it, I merely want to know what it is," Maleficent huffed.

"I'll let you know what it is if you come out, Godmother." Aurora smiled again, and it was so easy for her. Diaval was right; the girl belonged wherever she went. The only outlier seemed to be the castle, but Maleficent could not fault Aurora for never wanting to set foot in that monstrosity of iron ever again.

"I am fine here, Aurora."

"You don't need to be my shadow here, Godmother. I don't think anyone knows who you are, and even if they did, they seem to be incredibly fascinated with a drink that tastes like berries, but with a bitter aftertaste."

"You had some?"

"A … little bit. Berend suggested that I not drink more than a cup of it." Aurora sat crosslegged on the grass and lifted up something to her mouth. She took a bite out of it, and then spoke around the mouthful. "Would you like some?"

Maleficent remembered another human upon the green grass offering her a drink. Her body shivered with the memory. "No."

Aurora pouted. Her eyes were black with her back to the firelight, but it lit her hair as if the tresses were truly spun from gold. "You are acting just like my aunties."

"I am not."

"You are! You only want to spend time with me when it's fun for you."

"That is most certainly not the case, Aurora. Do not be foolish." Maleficent waved a hand dismissively.

"Then why won't you sit out here with me?"

"Because this is as close to humans that I care to be, Aurora, and if you ask me again ..." There was a warning in her tone, one not used since the first night Aurora charmed her out of her hiding spot.

Aurora shook her head, and gathered up her bundles. She got back to her feet, a little unsteady and marched to the very edge of the thicket. She set one of the bundles deliberately just beyond the tree Maleficent stood behind, then turned on her heel to resume her march, but this time into the festival and away from Maleficent. She vanished into the crowd much like Diaval had.

And Maleficent? Well. She waited until she was certain that she would be unseen before retrieving the bundle Aurora left. She retreated into the thick of the trees, and then further still, until she could stand in the open far beyond the fire and music, underneath the dying sun where the shadows stretched long over her form and allowed her the freedom to stretch her wings without prying eyes.

Curiosity had always been a vice, and so she could not help but to unwrap the parcel. It was not a sweetcake, or even food, but a strange woodcarving of what appeared to be a barren Great Tree, the branches gnarled and sprawled over the entire piece. Scrawled into the image of those branches was a language Maleficent had thought long disappeared from the world.

Her fingers smooth over the engraved words even though she cannot translate the obviously-fae script underneath them. It was a lovely carving but what had it been doing being sold in a human festival? Even if it had been a lucky guess by the woodcarver, the script was too complete for simple imagination; and Maleficent knew without a doubt that no human save Aurora had ever ventured deep enough within the moors to spy the ruined fragments of what once was.

Her wings slackened as she traced the engraving a second time, then a third time. Now the shadows are more numerous than the sunlight, They play on her like she is a stage for them to dance, and they are fluid and haunting in their patterns. She spread her wings further and the breeze from the east ruffled and stirred through the flight feathers and for a moment she thinks she can smell the richness of the Moors on the wind and the scent of her home carried comfort in a place she'd not expected to find it. The glimpse of home is enough to settle the churlishness of her mood and she thought on a way to make amends with Aurora.

...

Maleficent returned to the thicket and then beyond it. There is a fallen oak tree in the clearing, covered in vines and moss and it is that place she made her roost in anticipation for the return of Aurora, or even Diaval. She doesn't have to wait for too long for Aurora appeared at the edge of the stalls, Diaval at her side.

"I told them you wouldn't leave!" She exclaimed, setting her trinkets and food bundles into Diaval's arms so she could run the distance between her and Maleficent. She kicked off her slippers and darted up the log without a care for her dress, stopping only when she was a foot or so from the faery. "I'm sorry. For earlier. I was just so excited and …" she trailed off, scrunching her face. "I'm sorry."

"I was not exactly on my best behavior either, Beastie." Maleficent tilted her head up, eyes drifting to the velvet sky above them. She could not see the stars due to the fires, but she knew they were there. "Are you enjoying yourself despite your godmother's peevishness?"

Aurora nodded. "I am. There were foods of all sorts and spiced with herbs. Philip says they're from the southern lands beyond even his borders, across a wide channel of water greater than even the lake of the Moors."

Maleficent arched a brow. "How do you know how wide the lake is, mm? Have you been flying without me?"

"Oh yes, Diaval turns into a dragon for me and we soar through the cliffs. I've mapped out the entire Moors already! Haven't you?" Aurora was a fair bit below Maleficent and she rested her head upon the faery's knee. Her eyes are wide and bright and she smiled as if there had not been a spat between them.

Maleficent's hand ran over Aurora's hair. The girl is light and bubbly with the human drink and she hummed like one of the water nixes when her hair was stroked. "No. Even I do not know the Moors that well. You will have to show me this map when we return then."

"It's in Diaval's nest." Aurora nodded, then lifted her head slightly. "Do you know what was my favorite part of tonight?"

"No, what was it?"

"The stories. There were so many stories. There were even faerie stories."

"Were there now?" Maleficent nodded as Diaval came to settle at the base of the fallen log, head lolled back against the bark and moss.

"Yep!" Aurora stretches a leg to poke her foot playfully against Diaval's shoulder. "There were no raven stories though."

"A pity."

"Ravens tell our own stories far better than humans could. They're very biased. We don't steal all the time, and we certainly are not heralds of bad omens." Diaval voiced from his position at the base of the log. His head rolled back so he could peer upside-down at the two of them.

"You do so steal." Maleficent scoffed. "Look what happened to my poor Rowan Tree. Half of the upper branches are devoted to whatever little bits and bobs you have decided to claim for your own."

"I have improved the tree, I don't know what you're complaining about."

"Hmph." Maleficent leaned back against the bark, gaze heavenward once again. "Did you enjoy their faerie stories, Aurora?"

"I didn't stay for them." Aurora rubbed at her eyes, then crawled further up the log until she was at Maleficent's waist. "Can I lay here?"

"Always."

Aurora's smile was visible even in the dark. She was careful, and minded the feathers, and tucked herself against the length of Maleficent's body. Her chin rests at Maleficent's shoulder and when she breathes, Maleficent can smell the berry-sweet wine. Maleficent's wings furl up to keep Aurora steady against her, and the gentle weight of the girl over her wing is a comfort. She listened as Diaval's breathing evened out until he was lost to sleep, still wearing the form of the man. Maleficent envied him the rest, for she knew that she could never lower her guard outside of the Moors. Still, she did not attempt to wake him, and the music is enchanting in it's own way.

"Godmother?" Aurora's voice is more murmur than sound.

"Yes?"

"Where did all the dragons go? One of the bards was telling a story about dragons because there's a rumor that one destroyed the entire throne room, but I didn't really believe his version of events." Aurora turned her head so she could watch Maleficent's profile.

Maleficent's hands were tucked at her stomach and she lifts one to trace out a glimmering, golden thread in the air. She thought to the woodcarving Aurora had given to her, and the mysteries it held. It had been a very long time since she last had the desire to wander into the inlands of the Moors, where the lakes and cliffs yielded to marshes and bogs, caverns and ravines that stretched as far into the earth as the craggy cliffs reached for the heavens. She thought that she would venture back there soon, but first there was a story to be told.

"Once upon a time, before either humans or faeries knew how to build sprawling kingdoms, lived the dragons…"


	10. Chapter 10

Aurora awoke to the night still around her and voices low and urgent just beyond the wall of feathers. Maleficent's body was tense against her side, and her wings were distended as the feathers gained size and volume during Aurora's doze. Curious, she lifted a hand to trail a finger along the plumage and discovered that while the long flight feathers themselves were still normal, the downy feathers that lined the top of the wing itself were bunched up, like how she'd seen Diaval when the nights turned colder than expected.

A shiver ran through the wing at her touch but before Aurora could try and elicit that reaction a second time, Maleficent's hand closed quite firmly about Aurora's wrist and guided the princess' touch away from the small down and back towards the large primary feathers themselves.

Was Maleficent ticklish there?

It would have been a fascinating discovery to uncover, but Aurora knew better than to even begin such an investigation when everything about the faery's body language suggested trouble. She had only seen Maleficent this tense before the ambush in the throne room.

The hand around her wrist retreated and Maleficent continued the conversation, the pause seemingly as natural as a momentary halt could appear. Maleficent and … she tilted her head and held her breath to discover the second speaker was Berend. They spoke quiet enough that the wing muffled most of the words, and Aurora thought to herself that they both must believe she was still asleep.

So she wriggled as best as she could in what she believed would be perceived as natural movement during one's sleep to try and find a spot where the insulating plumage did not keep out the sound as well as the cold.

Unfortunately, Aurora was not the most subtle of creatures and soon enough the wing pulled up and away just enough to reveal the glittering green-gold of Maleficent's inquiring look. Aurora waggled her fingers in a responding wing continued to pull away until Aurora shook her head once, quick.

That inquiring look turned into an arched brow and pursed lips, but the wing settled down alongside Aurora's body, leaving her shielded from Berend's view yet able to listen.

"Is everything all right?"

Maleficent's attention left Aurora to return to Berend. "She has been having nightmares since the throne room."

The captain of the guard fell silent. Aurora wondered if it was guilt. After all, he must have helped to plan the ambush. Was that not what captains were for?

"She's settled back down." Maleficent didn't even blink when Aurora's nature to explore meant that she lifted the faery's hand to compare it with Aurora's own.

"You two are very close."

"You sound surprised."

"Does she know who cursed her?"

Aurora felt the magic flare within Maleficent. Beneath the cover of the dark wings, Aurora watched a green shimmer run just underneath the alabaster skin of her faery godmother. It struck her as the same glimmer that had pulsed within her own fingertip. Even now, the finger throbbed as if in sympathy, and Aurora was not sure if Maleficent's magic was reflecting on her own body, or if there was a lingering shard of the curse embedded within her still.

Aurora's hands tighten around Maleficent's own, and she turned into the faery. She tucked her head just at Maleficent's shoulder and lifted her gaze to try and show Maleficent through her eyes that she had forgiven her for that.

Aurora did not know if Maleficent took heed of her offer of support or if the faery clamped down on her own expression of anger through the iron control she had over her body. Whichever had been the case, Aurora is cast into darkness once more and Maleficent's body relaxes just a fraction. Now she was as tense as a spooked deer rather than an angry cat.

"She knows." Maleficent's voice was soft and filled with a sad sort of awe, as if she could not believe what she said.

"Our Princess is a merciful woman, then."

"This is not mercy, Captain. As you have reminded me several times, Aurora was raised in a rather interesting fashion. Pixies are not affectionate creatures. They are fickle and ever-changing as the seasons and can only carry one or two strong emotions at a time. I do not know about how humans are generally raised, but I would assume that you interact with your children, no? Hold them and comfort them when it is needed?"

"Of course."

Maleficent's voice took on that sad inflection once more. "Aurora's truest companion was a raven, and though he could croak a lullaby and snuggle in her cradle and bed to give her warmth, it is not what a child deserves."

Aurora remembered those nights. When she would feel listless and wished that her aunties would spend at least a little time after the sun set with her, she would spy the shadow at her window and share the early night hours with her pretty bird. Though, as she thought on Maleficent's words, she wondered if the faery was herself desperate for companionship.

"I do not understand why this warrants questioning. Do humans not become touch-starved?"

"It … this is rather improper behavior for a princess."

"Why? She seeks comfort and I provide it." Maleficent's wing shifts up and back, then down and forward. She's grown anxious. Aurora took heed from Maleficent's own words and turned closer into the faery.

"You are not her mother."

"I am still rather confused. What does my lack of being Aurora's mother have to do with anything?"

Aurora did not have to see the captain to know that he was uncomfortable with the way the conversation headed. She wanted to chime in, to tell him to leave Maleficent alone but kept quiet only because she had already surmised that how he spoke and what he thought changed whether or not he realized she was paying attention. So she remained quiet, and listened. She might have come to her own sobering understanding that she could not just run away forever into the Moorland, yet that did not mean she would accept him and trust him blindly.

Only four days prior he had worked under her father with the intention to ensnare and murder Maleficent.

She had not forgotten that. No matter how merciful he believed her to be.

"There are ...certain standards of propriety that a young lady of such high standings should strive to maintain. One of those is …"

"Is what? Touch? Comfort? The simple desire to be with another person?"

"I am not exactly the person to explain this. Perhaps if I brought over one of the Sisters."

Maleficent laughed. It was a sweet sound, touched with a tiny amount of pity. "No. No need to bring over another human to lecture me upon human morals and decency. I have plucked out what you are intending to teach me. I am not sorry to say in return that I simply do not care."

"When the Princess is crowned …"

"If Aurora decides to be crowned, then I will ask her what she wishes. Until that occurs, she is a girl who has not yet been taught to shun companionship and I will not be the first to teach her that desiring the presence of another is such a terrible sin." Underneath the wing, Maleficent's hand turned in Aurora's own until their fingers were entwined. It was a silent affirmation to Aurora even as she said it aloud to Berend. "Save for the pixies who care most for themselves and the flowers under their charge, the Fair Folk do not care if a person decides to spend a night curled against another and I will not change that to suit your human squeamishness."

Berend went quiet again, long enough that Aurora would have believed he left if not for the lack of his armor making noise.

Maleficent took pity on the man. "You approached me for a reason, Captain. What was it?"

"Ah." Berend sounded grateful. "One of the watchposts nearby sent me this." There was the sound of unfurling paper. "Do you need me to read it for you?"

"No." Maleficent squeezed Aurora's hand once, then lifted it up to take the paper. She did so, her eyes glowing faint as she skimmed the paper. When she finished she returned it to Berend. "Does it say the truth?"

"I'm not sure. We have had ...complications with a local group for a few years now, but they've never escalated beyond cattle thievery and the occasional brawl in whatever tavern was set up for a week."

"You did nothing about them?"

"The King devoted the entire Kingdom to seeing your defeat, Lady Protector; what little there was to spare was not enough to devote to petty criminals."

"Just faeries."

"You cursed the Princess."

"I left your King and this Kingdom alone for sixteen years! If Aurora had not returned to bid her aunts goodbye, she would have come into the Moors and her sixteenth here and gone, and I still would have let this kingdom be. However, as things went, I came to the castle to save Aurora. Only to save her." Maleficent's hand returned to Aurora's grasp.

"What if we had been successful in preventing the curse?"

"I would have been relieved that Aurora was safe."

"You wouldn't have come for her?" Confusion laced his words.

"No." The refusal was adamant. "Not unless she requested it of me."

"Forgive my bluntness, but you are strange, Lady Protector."

"I prefer blunt honesty actually." Maleficent shrugged a shoulder. "How concerned are you with the report of those 'petty criminals'."

Berend sighed. "Referring back to what we discussed earlier, Although I am glad to see that the Princess and yourself enjoyed this distraction, I am beginning to think that it would be best for all if she was taken back to the Moorlands until the ceremony itself."

Maleficent frowned and adjusted so that she was sitting upright. That meant that Aurora could not remain tucked against her without giving away her wakefulness to Berend so Aurora fell back onto the wing and watched Maleficent's face for clues to her thoughts. "What changed your mind? Last night I believe you were going to demand Aurora remain here."

"Remember how I spoke of the Council? They are as ambitious as King Stefan was, and as aggressive as King Henry. You read the paper. Those criminals kidnapped a girl from the inn. Kidnapping usually comes with a ransom."

"You think they're looking for Aurora."

"I know they're looking for Aurora." Berend shifted and his armor clanked with the movement. "The only souls who knew of the curse breaking are those who were in the castle the night you defeated King Stefan. The only souls who knew that the Princess would be returning to the Kingdom to pay respects to her father were myself and the Council."

"If one of these twelve men were to take Aurora hostage …"

"Then they have essentially won the throne without bloodshed. King Stefan was raised up through marriage to King Henry's only daughter. It's precedent for another man to do the same; and if the highwaymen learned exactly who they were kidnapping, who's to say they won't attempt such a rise to power themselves?"

"Humans have rigid rules for who can rule though, do they not?"

"Aye, but once again, King Stefan set a precedent. He was not of noble blood. Not even of merchant's stock. He was a orphaned peasant."

"He became king because he vanquished me. I remember Diaval telling me of the coronation." Maleficent rolled her neck back and forth as if reminders of that time exhausted her.

"You know, I became Captain of the Guard the day King Stefan was crowned?"

"This is interesting to me for what reason?"

Aurora could not fidget and fuss with Maleficent's hands in her new position, but she could explore the wings again. The activity kept her quiet and helped her to focus on the discussion. She knew it was serious. Maleficent's body had gone taut once again, and the undercurrent of magic had returned, only this time it was a startling gold that turned the faery's skin to amber.

"The Oaths of the Captain make sure that we are devoted to the throne to the point of suicidal fanaticism. The previous guard attempted to assassinate King Stefan the night before his crowning."

Aurora lifted her head even as Maleficent turned hers. "Oh?"

"He was caught and executed the very same night, and swore until the sword fell that King Henry had been murdered and King Stefan's ascension was a lie."

" ...was the king murdered?" Maleficent asked.

"My predecessor was a better man than I was. If he said something to be true, then it was probably true."

"Then why did no one dispute it?"

"At the time, we believed he had vanquished you, Lady Protector. Even if King Henry had been murdered, the truth of the matter was that Stefan had brought you down. You! A faery woman who defeated the King's army by herself. If Stefan had stolen your wings, and if he had stolen the crown, who would be foolish to think themselves strong enough to contest him?"

Maleficent's wings shuddered at the memory of exactly how King Stefan had 'vanquished' her. Aurora could see the revulsion tremble down into the feathers and back up until it completed the journey with a violent shake of Maleficent's horns.

"And to be truthful, Lady Protector, if you are still alive then King Henry's decree still stands. Any nobleman who vanquishes you will have a claim, and if they also have the Princess…"

"Yes, I am beginning to see your point." Maleficent finally looked down into the shelter of her wings and met Aurora's gaze a second time. There was a haunting look in her eyes that made Aurora want to reach up and brush it away somehow but despite her assurances that she was sixteen and could take care of herself, she began to grow aware that there was still a lot left to learn about life. "Aurora."

"Yes?" She did not try to mime drowsiness. The discussion had succeeded in waking her fully.

"What do you wish to do?"

Aurora sat up and glanced between Maleficent and Berend, who looked surprised to learn she'd been awake the entire time. He stammered a 'your grace' and bowed. "Until I am crowned Queen, I am in danger?"

Berend agreed.

"And … and Maleficent is in danger?" The name felt weird in her mouth, like her tongue and teeth weren't yet ready to roll over the syllables with the right amount of reverence they deserved. She could not call Maleficent 'Godmother' before Berend though. He did not have the right to intrude upon that part of their lives.

Maleficent was displeased with that question. She scowled and her eyes gleamed green as if daring Aurora to suggest that she could ever be brought into danger by mere men ever again. Aurora knew better. She remembered the iron net and the way Maleficent stumbled to gain even an inch of ground before her wings had returned.

If Aurora had been even seconds late …

"We should go back to the Moors." Aurora tilted up to meet Maleficent's emerald gaze. "If the men do come, you can fight them there and you'll be at your strongest with the Border Guards with you."

Still displeased, Maleficent could not disagree with that assessment. "It would be quickest if I flew with you. Your horse is agile and quick enough to make it back on his own without the concern for a rider."

Berend stepped closer to the log. "If we ride though, I can accompany you."

Maleficent chuckled, the sound dark and mischievous. "Oh, no. I have a better plan …"

Philip was surprisingly agreeable about the plan, though he did blush when both he and Aurora stepped out in their new clothing. He stammered and did his best to look everywhere but the trousers and tunic Aurora wore, but failed miserably. In truth, it had taken some glamour to tighten the clothing about her, for she was not as broad in the shoulders as the Prince, but once Maleficent deemed the magic sufficient, Aurora enjoyed the change of clothing. It was new and exciting and she could dart around without worrying about tangling her legs in the dress.

She tugged at the blue tunic and finally secured the sweeping dark cloak around her. She could not see the glamour upon her but she felt the tingle of magic at her scalp. "How do I look?"

Philip squeaked out something she couldn't understand and disappeared behind the canvas wall. Aurora spun around before Maleficent and Diaval, who had taken up watch as a raven. Diaval 'awk'd in approval and Maleficent canted her head to the side with a frown and a soft 'hmmm'.

"I do not know if dark hair suits you, Beastie." Maleficent had pinned her hair up as she'd cast the glamour so Aurora couldn't pull a strand before her to see it in the firelight.

Diaval made a disagreeable noise with Maleficent's teasing and flew over to settle on Aurora's shoulder. He butted his head against her cheek once as if to tell her to ignore Maleficent as faeries didn't understand anything.

He had swooped down to land and changed back into his human form to probably tell her that very thing, but before he could speak he was overcome with laughter. Laughter so high-pitched and rich that Aurora wondered if the entire kingdom could hear it.

Confused, she turned around.

She was far better capable of not laughing. Though she nearly lost it when Maleficent mused that pink was certainly _not_ Prince Philip's color.

"You can't say that until you've lightened my hair," Philip sassed back, tossing a wink towards Aurora as he turned to face Maleficent with his hands upon his hips and his head held high. Even in a dress, with the gold trim and the lace, he still held the air of regality around him. One Aurora was not sure she would ever learn.

"He's ...ahaha… he's got a point, Maleficent." Diaval struggled to catch his breath. "At least let us see him with the glamour truly there."

Maleficent clucked her tongue as she approached Philip. Her hands came up and the golden light of her magic spun in the air around the prince before sinking into his skin. His hair faded to the pale blonde that Aurora cherished about herself, and though it was obvious from the broad shoulders and the way he carried himself that Philip was certainly not a delicate princess, in the dark of the night, underneath a cloak and upon a horse, she was certain it would fool anyone desperate enough to hunt down girls for money and power.

Maleficent clucked her tongue a second time. "It will do."

Philip twirled. He twirled in place and tried his best to come to a complete stop and fix Aurora with a simpering look. "Now be kind my lady. What do you think?"

That was when the laughter broke through.

"Impossible little beast, you are as terrible as Diaval," Maleficent chided, eyes twinkling with a gentle mirth as she took her place at Aurora's side. She considered the pair of them. Philip more than her. She seemed to be wrestling with a decision, the conclusion reached with a snap of her wings outward.

She summoned the faery horse, stepping forward to press her forehead against his own. She spoke to him in a language Aurora only knew from her time with the wallerbogs, and pulled away when the horse nickered in return.

"He has agreed to carry you, knowing the risk."

"We both know the risk." Diaval had recovered from his laughing fit.

Maleficent's gaze was no less concerned as she contemplated Diaval. "You do not have to do this."

"No, but I want to. It will keep you and Aurora safe until you are in the Moors once again." He reached out for her hand and took it. "I will see you both soon. We will run towards the northern boundary, along the open fields. It would be easier to spy me in the air and Philip on the ground. If you take fight and go above the clouds, you'll be shielded."

"Not with that stormfront rolling in from the west, Diaval. It's not skirting south like we had thought."

"Fly as high as you can until the storm brings you low, then skirt the groves and copses until you reach the eastern forest. If anyone could fly true in a storm it's you, Maleficent."

Aurora saw the doubt in Maleficent's eyes and took the faery's hand in her own. "You said they never faltered, not even once, and that they took you into the strongest headwinds."

Maleficent's gaze traveled to their joined hands. She chuckled breathlessly, then cupped Aurora's face with her free hand, her thumb sweeping against Aurora's cheek. "I did say that." Aurora sensed Maleficent's courage rising and smiled.

Berend stepped forward, his own horse at the ready. "Then we ride and meet at the largest boundary stone in two night's time." He saluted Aurora, pressing a hand against his heart and stepped back to swing into the saddle and await Philip and Diaval. Though, before he pushed from the ground, he changed his mind. Instead, he grabbed a small object from the saddlebags and handed it to Aurora.

It was sheathed dagger, and heavy for something it's size. Suddenly nervous that it was iron, Aurora pulled the sheath free only to slump in relief as the blade gleamed a pale blue-green.

"It is bronze, Princess. So you may protect yourself without hindering the power of the fae. It will be safe to take wherever the fair folk walk."

Aurora looked to Maleficent for confirmation. She gave it, but the look Maleficent gave Berend was a mixture of gratitude and appraisement. Aurora slipped the dagger back into the lacquered wood casing and hooked it onto the belt she now wore. Her other items were safe in the small saddlebag she slung over a shoulder.

When Berend and Philip stepped aside to give the three space; Maleficent shifted to place the spell upon Diaval but Aurora was quicker. She turned and rushed into the raven's arms, hugging him tightly. It was a free gesture of emotion, and one that she could not express with Maleficent, even if the faery was affectionate in her own brusque way. Diaval, though, had never once been anything but kind and approachable, and he smelled of the sky and the trees as he hugged her close to him. He cupped the back of her head and carefully tugged her until they were eye to eye.

"Don't you worry Hatchling, when I get back to the Moors, we'll head down into the lowland fields to pluck blackberries like we promised." His black eyes gleamed in the night and his smile reminded her of the nights a raven kept company when she felt lonely.

"We better. If we wait any longer, they'll grow overripe."

"Not a day longer than two." He nuzzled her hair, a human mimicry of when he would do so as a raven, then let her go so Maleficent could perform the incantation. "I'll need to be as big as you, and have wings to make the disguise work."

"Any preferences, Diaval?"

He grinned. "Can't you just make me a bigger bird?"

She hummed in response, then her hand shimmered with magic.

Aurora believed that if she'd not known about the glamour, that the three rapidly retreating figures were her, Maleficent, and Berend. Though Maleficent had simply granted Diaval the shape of a man-sized raven, from a distance and with the weak light of the moon not yet hidden behind the clouds, he could be mistaken for the winged faery herself. And with the cloak and the way Philip hunched over the neck of the faery horse, Aurora was fooled for a second or two.

"I'm nervous." She admitted to Maleficent as the faery gathered Aurora into her arms.

"A natural response."

"Are you nervous?" Aurora lifted her head to search Maleficent's expression. Maleficent answered by taking to the air with one powerful downbeat of her wings. A second stroke and they were above the stalls. A third, and even the trees yielded the heights to them.

Aurora barely remembered the first flight to the Moors due to the exhaustion that sapped the energy from her. She did recall with fondness the second flight, where Maleficent had lingered in the air until sadness was just another memory, but tonight felt different.

The tension never left Maleficent's body since Aurora woke to her and Berend talking. It had only grown until the faery's body was as still and unyielding as stone underneath Aurora's touch. Even though Diaval had suggested climbing above the cloud cover, Maleficent did not rise much higher than the tall oaks. She had fallen silent too, her jaw clenched with the nerves she did not admit aloud to having.

Aurora found it was easy to forgive Maleficent's silence on the matter, though she had hoped the faery would lie and say everything would be all right.

"Can faeries lie?"

Maleficent's eyes flickered down to her face. "It depends on how you view it." Her hands shifted underneath Aurora's knees as she banked into a long turn that brought they into the sparse canopy of a grove of trees that were wicked shadows in the night, with branches that threatened to snag Maleficent's wings. "We can stretch the truth until it is little more than a figment of the original meaning, and we can dance around a subject as nimbly as the water nixes, but a faerie cannot, or, rather - should never lie."

"Why?"

"It is one of our deepest held beliefs. To say a lie as one would the truth is to forswear yourself."

"Then I will also never lie to you," Aurora said. She hoped it would bleed some of the tension from Maleficent's body. Declarations such as that always did so, right?

Instead, Maleficent's breath comes in a harsh, short laugh. "You are human, Aurora. You cannot keep such a promise."

And that hurt. The words slithered down into her heart and tightened like the thorns Maleficent used to divide the human lands from the Moorlands, and it's right at that moment, Aurora learned what shame felt like. Maleficent noticed, because the faery was keen-sighted, but said nothing because as Aurora knew…. faeries could not lie.

Aurora turned her face outward, studying the night that stretched underneath them. She tried to spot the distant storm that Maleficent and Diaval spoke of, and looked up into the wispy moonlight that was quickly disappearing behind the cloud cover. She looked and watched and focused on everything except for the cold beauty of the faery who carried her.

When the moonlight was swallowed up at last, the night was as dark as the feathers of Diaval's wing which made the torchlight that flickered on the road ahead of them all the more noticeable. Even with Aurora's human sight (human, how she hated what she was at that moment) the outline of four riders surrounding … surrounding something was apparent.  
"Can you fly lower?"

"Aurora, the entire point of this was to get you safely back home, not stop to see the sights."

"I don't want to stop, I just want to see -" She's cut off by a scream that pierced the night with a sharpness that clawed at her ears. She ducked her head away in reflex. Maleficent swayed in the growing wind, startled. "We should help her."

"We need to get to the Moors. I can protect you there."

"Who will protect her?" Aurora's gaze swiveled until she had locked Maleficent into a stare. "Answer that without dancing around the truth, Godmother."  
Maleficent's grip tightened, her eyes hardened, and she gained speed as she climbed higher into the sky, not lower.

A second scream, this one male. It wasn't an angry yell, but astonished and desperate.

"Godmother."

Nothing.

"Godmother!"

Maleficent steadfastly refused to look at her.

"They're after me. What if that was me down there?"

"You would never be put into that situation. I wouldn't allow it."

"Maleficent." Aurora stressed her name, drew it out in a careful plea. "Please. I'm begging you."

Aurora's scream was the third one to echo in the night as Maleficent's grasp faltered. The faery recovered before Aurora's heart could work through a sudden jump and then banked sharp into a lightning-quick dive that was as silent as the owl's flight.

They landed too far from the torch-bearing riders for Aurora's taste but when Maleficent released her and then commanded her to stay put, Aurora launched forward. "I can help!"

"You know nothing of battle, Aurora. You will serve only to hurt yourself."

"That isn't fair!"

Maleficent smiled, and the expression was painful to see. "It's the truth, Beastie."

Aurora called out her name as Maleficent whirled and dove into the battle. Her wings snapped forward and the sound drowned out the distant thunder, and snuffed the torches. It blinded the riders. It blinded Aurora, but the girl knew that the faery could see even when the world disappeared into nothing.

Men exclaimed. Men screamed. Horses whinnied and galloped into the night around Aurora. These were the sounds that Aurora remembered from the battle in the throne room, when Maleficent sent chandeliers toppling down onto unexpecting guards. The faery herself made no sound, gave away no sign of herself. She was silent and the shadows themselves.

And then it was over.

Magic came to light and bathed the skirmish in a pale green-gold light. Aurora knew why no one had challenged her father even if he had murdered her grandfather. Maleficent stood in the center of the road with the men crippled at her feet. They looked alive, but wounded. One's arm was bent at an unnatural angle, a terrible gash lacerating it from the top of his shoulder to his elbow. Something dark gleamed wet and sticky on the claws that crowned Maleficent's wings.

Nausea swirled in the bottom of Aurora's stomach. She pushed it down, down and deep until it was merely an uncomfortable pressure just underneath her ribs. She did not move forward until Maleficent nodded and gestured for her too.

Aurora did not hesitate, rushing towards the skirmish and side-stepping the fallen to approach the only survivor. The woman was a little older than she was and bent over the still body of a man who had hair as grey as ash. Blood oozed from his temple and the pallor of his skin was evident even with Maleficent's magic giving everything an unnatural glow.

"Is he breathing?" Aurora asked, coming to kneel in the grass by the woman.

"I … I don't know. They were … one minute we were riding towards Havern and the next … they were all around us and demanding I come with them." She did not lift her gaze from the man in her arms. "He tried to stop them but they hit him and he fell and - and…" she cut off. She swallowed painfully and looked towards Maleficent, then Aurora. "You saved my life."

"She did." Aurora swung her chin in Maleficent's direction.

"And you pointed them out to me," Maleficent returned the credit.

"Why were you out on the road so late?" Aurora inquired, already rummaging in the saddlebag for the clean kerchief she'd bundled the woodcarving into. She set the cloth against the man's head and applied gentle pressure. She remembered Auntie Knotgrass caring for their goat when he had caught his leg in the fence. There had been blood everywhere, but Auntie Knotgrass had simply torn a piece of her dress off and told Aurora to press firm against the wound as the woman went to make a paste to help with the infection.

"I'm Yennifer, the midwife. Harvel's daughter," she ran a hand soft along the man's arm, "had gone into labor early and something was … is going wrong."

Aurora turned to look at Maleficent. She asked with wide-eyes and a concerned frown.

Maleficent took one look at her and scoffed. "What? No. Aurora, I curse babies, I don't rescue them."


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: **I apologize for the long wait between chapters! A few minor family emergencies, two midterms, and a weekend convention all strove to keep me from updating. The schedule will return to being lively as the week goes on. Thank you for your patience! Also thanks to my mother who had to sit through me asking about midwifery without modern conveniences.

* * *

Despite a good five minutes of protesting that ensuring that Aurora survived past the first sixteen months in order for the curse to actually be worth merit and effort, the Princess was unconvinced with Maleficent's assertions about her interactions with infants, and so, with a very befuddled Yennifer looking on, and Harvel barely able to keep his hands closed secure upon the reins, Maleficent found herself on the edge of yet another small village in the human kingdom.

Naturally, Aurora brimmed with excitement in her arms and almost wriggled out before Maleficent's feet had touched the ground. The princess gravitated towards the horse that bore the two humans, and she was gentle hands and soft, encouraging words as she aided Yennifer in dismounting Harvel from his seat.

That should have been the end of it, Maleficent overseeing the ride to the farm on the outskirts of the village and the ensurement of Yennifer and Harvel to their destination, but the elderly man toppled onto the ground with one step. Without him, Yennifer did not have an assistant. She could ride into the village proper, but they had lost so much time already.

Maleficent was gladdened that Aurora did not volunteer her.

Maleficent was not as glad to discover the reason she was left unnamed was because Aurora herself volunteered instead. The faery barely mounted a proper refusal when Aurora's hair disappeared through the doorway, which left Maleficent outside with the woozy Harvel.

Oh yes, the next baby Maleficent encountered would receive a curse that went into effect sixteen hours after bestowment so she never had to deal with such a presumptuous, precocious child ever again.

"She dresses strange for a girl." Harvel peered up at her from underneath the sticky blood.

"We were fleeing bandits ourselves." Maleficent explained without a look his way.

"Bandits going after the Fair Folk?" He squinted her way. "Strange behavior for them. They actually used the Thorn Wall to their advantage."

"How so?"

Harvel shifted from one hip braced against the grass to the other. "Simple enough. The Thorns only react when they're actively threatened. Only folks stupid enough to cut faery magic were the King's Soldiers. Everyone else learned to just pass on by. So long as you didn't touch, you could run from the northern border to the south without ever crossing a checkpoint."

"Smuggling." Her voice went clipped and curt.

He shrugged. "Too old to work the mines. Too old to wield a blade, but I know how to pack so dogs cannot sniff out your secrets."

"What do you smuggle?"

Harvel sucked on his front teeth. "Depends on the run. Sometimes grain when a harvest went poor. Other times it's decent tools since the King took the scraps of iron for himself. "

"Neither of which sound as if dogs can ferret out the goods."

"Aye, true. The dogs are for the slaves."

Maleficent turned around slowly, uncertain if she heard him correctly. "Slaves?"

"You don't draft an entire kingdom's worth of men without consequences."

"Can your women not provide for themselves?" Maleficent thought of Gemma and the way she trembled as she fought to push a barrel upon the pile.

"They do what they can, sure, but there's a market for such a product and I need food on my table so my daughter can eat."

From inside the house, a wailing cry rose up, the sound of a mother in distress. Maleficent likened it to a troubled labor a deer had experienced a few springs earlier. She wondered if the woman inside would wind up as the doe had. It was the cruel side of nature, and one she long grown used to, but at the same time … she remained uncertain if she was willing for Aurora to learn the same lessons.

"I did not realize the Fair Folk were interested in the ways of men."

"Mm, not usually, no."

"Matter of fact, I haven't seen one of your kind 'cross the Thorns since my girl was about the age yours is."

"What is mine?"

"The bairn. Is she a Changeling?"

Maleficent frowned. Her wings swept forward, a breeze followed in their movement. Aurora could be considered a changeling in some light. Raised by faeries, away from human contact. Yet, her knowledge of the Moorlands only begun when she had left the impressionable years of humankind. Maleficent remembered Balthazar's tales of human children kept so long within the Moors, they had practically become like the springtouched fae.

"I did not mean to pry," Harvel broke her from her thoughts. She waved off the apology.

"I was considering my answer. The child is not mine, nor is she a Changeling. I am charged with her protection, however."

He grunted. In the house, the screams turned to gross sobbing breaths. It drew Maleficent's interests. "What do you think?"

"I think of many things, and then on many more beyond those thoughts." Maleficent's answer is dry. "If you are asking what I think of the occurings within your home; I cannot say. I do not read the future."

"Simply curse babies, aye?" He offered, a grin on his face. She reared around to berate him that cheek but saw no recognition in his eyes. He was parroting what she had told Aurora, nothing more beyond that.

"Generally."

Harvel grunted again and they allowed the trouble within the house to fill the silence around them. The torches flickered in the night breeze and above them the clouds rolled ever-onward. In the distance, Maleficent picked out the tell-tale flash of lightning and listened for the thunder that followed. Attempting to determine the distance and how long it would be before the storm came overhead made for more interesting fare than the labored affair occurring within the house.

The door clicked open behind them. Aurora looked exhausted, worry pinched her brow. "Are there any knots out here?"

Harvel glanced about but shook his head. "Only the ones keeping the horses tethered."

"Yennifier wants all of the knots untied." Aurora did not step outside. She had her head canted to the side as to better hear the women inside while looking out at them beyond the threshold.

"Why?"

Maleficent knew the reason and knew that explaining it to Harvel would only lead to a meandering discussion that would serve no purpose. There were certain secrets that men just were not meant to know. "Does the child move between contractions?" She inquired as she walked toward the door only to be balked when the thrum of iron forced her steps to a standstill.

Of course. An iron horseshoe above the door, and Maleficent was rather certain that a request to take it down would also result in another long winded discussion that would, again, serve no other purpose but to aid in her growing ill temperament.

"Is there a window near the mother?"

Aurora turned to repeat the first question to Yennifer before answering Maleficent's second. "Yes."

"Stand by it, Beastie." Maleficent whirled on the spot, spied Harvel's worried look, and moved on around the house to spy Aurora.

Maleficent was tall enough that it was a simple task to stare into the house and see the scene cast into the gold flicker of candlelight. Yennifer leaned over the mother, murmuring encouraging words as she rubbed what Maleficent noted as flaxseed onto the woman's belly. Aurora's eyes were frightened and dull as she stood, shifting from foot to foot right on the opposite side of the window.

"Yennifer, is the babe moving?" Maleficent called, drawing the midwife's attention.

"Weakly. She was strong at first but Adalia's had at least twenty contractions and still there is nothing. I cannot coax her to turn either." She gestured to the distended belly and Maleficent noticed the push of impossibly tiny feet against the top of the abdomen. "If I delay any longer -"

"Are both feet up near the babe's head? I cannot tell from here with the light."

Yennifer's hands stroked and pressed into the mother's belly, seeking out the answer. "Yes."

"Then she can deliver."

"The babe is -"

"You will not turn the head," Maleficent's wings arched up with her shoulders in a anxious shrug. "Place your hand low on her belly and find the babe's bottom. Aurora, you as well, Yennifer might need your hands to convince the child it wants to turn."

Yennifer looked ready to protest. Her body hunched with hours of tension and desperation. It was Aurora who came over from the window and rested a hand gently upon the woman's shoulder. "I have never seen a breech birth succeed."

"You will by the morning's light. If we dwaddle, though, then we will see only a funeral when the sun rises."

"... all right."

Aurora followed the instructions without fuss. She knelt near the opposite side of the mother and placed her hands where Yennifer said to. The two humans looked up to the faery for the next step. The mother, Adalia, only stared skyward and murmured wordless prayers to whatever spirits she put faith into.

"All right. This will be difficult. Adalia," Maleficent called to the mother first. "I know Yennifer has probably told you to resist the urge to bear down, but when the next contraction comes, you will follow instinct. Aurora, Yennifer; when she does this, gently push the babe at an angle."

"What will that do?" Aurora looked between Adalia and the window.

"Allow nature to take her course, if the spirits are with us tonight."

Adalia groaned, then sobbed. Maleficent watched as her knuckles turned white as she gripped the sheets beneath her. Hours of being told to resist had conditioned her to keep that pattern. She winced, breath leaving her in heavy, harsh gasps. Sweat beaded her brow. When a grimace contorted her features, Maleficent knew it was time to act.

"Now, Adalia. Bear down!" Maleficent ordered, the voice of command she used to bring forth defenders of the Moors and standing against the greed of kings. It worked then, and it worked now.

As Adalia finally pushed, Yennifer and Aurora manipulated the child through Adalia's belly, turning and guiding until Yennifer ran her hand up. "The babe's turned to the side!"

Yennifer hastened to settle between Adalia's spread thighs. She brought the candle carefully low as Adalia pushed. Everyone was silent save for Adalia. Then -

"I see the child!"

Maleficent felt relief like a summer's breeze waft over her. From the window, she guided Yennifer through every single step. When the babe's progress stilled, it was Maleficent's orders for Yennifer to carefully pull upon the child's leg until one foot escaped the confinement.

From there, the birth moved forward, though it was slower than it should be. "When you see the child's belly, Yennifer, twist her belly-down, face her towards the sheets. Aurora, fetch a cloth."

Yennifer did so with the next push. Now the race against time was a sprint, as the pressures of childbirth were bearing down completely upon the child's chest and head. If not done quickly…

Yet it seemed that Adalia's prayers were answered, for after the gentle tug and twist, the next push brought the babe from stomach to shoulders, and Yennifer's hands were gentle as they hooked about the babe's neck and guided the child the last inches into the world. Resting the baby's stomach on her other hand, the cloth between midwife and infant so Yennifer's grasp was firm and unyielding against the slippery nature of childbirth,, Yennifer carefully tilted the baby's bottom up until the child's face was visible. The cord was not wrapped around the child's neck, the babe's skin was flushed with a healthy shade of color, and as Yennifer instructed Aurora to fetch more cloth and water for the mother and child, Maleficent marveled how humans came into the world as bloody and violent as they experienced it.

Maleficent took one final look to the scene then returned around the house to Harvel.

The old man looked up at her through shaky hands.

"You have a granddaughter."

Though Adalia pleaded for them to remain until the morning, Maleficent's patience with the human world had reached its end. She reminded Aurora, with a tight jaw and gritted teeth, that Diaval and Philip rode off with the express intention of drawing away men who seeked nothing more than to kidnap her for ransom. When Aurora had struck up a petulant bargaining to linger a little while longer, Maleficent not-so-kindly reminded her that the longer she stayed in the kingdom, the more likely a woman would be harmed in the attempt to kidnap her. That led into a discussion about the group that accosted Yennifer and Harvel, and how the next group would not have a faery protector swooping down upon them to disrupt their harassments.

The first argument did little to convince Aurora. The second did enough that Maleficent felt guilty at pulling on strings to bring guilt to the forefront of Aurora's thoughts to win a battle of words with her. The third threw Aurora into a complying silence and a gesture for Maleficent to carry them away.

Maleficent had only spoken nothing but truth though and could not spend too much time dwelling upon the way Aurora stayed silent during the flight back to the Moors. They landed just within the boundary, before the marsh and lakes swallowed up the fields of flowers. Here, Aurora requested time alone and Maleficent granted it. Within the Moors, Aurora was as safe as she could ever be. The girl could not walk far enough within a day to approach the territories of the fae that even Maleficent deemed otherworldly. Still, Maleficent paused in her own travels to whisper soft to the storm nixes who were stirring eagerly for the oncoming tempest. She bade them to keep a distant eye on Aurora as humans were not meant for the elements; and as storm nixes prefered the high currents to anything earthbound, it would allow Aurora her space without being abandoned.

Maleficent herself strolled towards the marshes along the southern bend of the Moorlands, where the Border Guards stood sentinel within the bogs. It was there that the border guards were made and where they went when they were not needed elsewhere. Her destination was the giant oak that had fallen during a winter several decades before her parents were thought of, as that hollowed out shelter was where Balthazar made his home when he was not needed. She expected to wait up until the morning for him and found, instead, a conclave of the wood warriors curved into a crescent around the eldest of them.

The other Border Guards claimed that Eudeyrn came forth at the same time as the first great tree took root in the Moorlands. Maleficent was unsure of the validity of the statement, but the ancient sentinel had the appearance of having experienced nearly the entire span of creation. Eudeyrn's bark was bleached white from millennia underneath the sun and his body was riddled with the scratches and war wounds from countless lifetimes. Like all of his kind, Eudeyrn's eyes were dark and abyssal - even in the dark night, Maleficent could make out the hollows that served as the ancient being's gaze.

She bowed low and respectful three meters away from the gathering, unsure of if her presence interrupted something private. To her left, one of the marsh boars rooted against the trunks of the submerged trees in search of whatever sustained such a creature.

The sentinels swayed in position to face her and greeted her in their creaking language of wind and bark. The crescent pulled outward to welcome her into their midst.

"Hello Daughter of Lysander," Eudeyrn's 'face' was much like Balthazar's, stretched out to mimic a striking combination of faerie and stag. His crown of bark-antlers rose up and away as grand as the giant elk that roamed the distant wilds. Maleficent could hold her arms out wide and probably only manage touching the ends with the very tips of her fingers.

"A fair summer to you Eudeyrn. Are you awaiting Balthazar's return as well?"

"Yes." At Maleficent's concerned look, he shook his head. The movement was slow and ponderous. "For reasons that do not spell trouble. I simply traveled here to sink my roots into the marsh and listen to my saplings' journey-tales. There is even talk of bringing forth new feàrna."

"That would be a blessing to witness."

Eudeyrn acknowledged her words with a nod. "Sit with me, Daughter of Lysander."

Maleficent did so without complaint or question. She shuffled her wings so they were comfortable against the rough bark and tilted her head back so her horns did not catch upon Eudeyrn's own crown. Once she was settled, the ancient sentinel twisted toward her.

"What calls you to our home?"

Maleficent carefully retrieved the wrapped wood carving from her pouch protected underneath her robe and peeled away the cloth until the wood carving was bare. Above her, her magic coalesced into a luminescent disc that slowly spun in place. "I hoped he would understand what this meant."

Eudeyrn unfurled a hand in request and Maleficent granted it. She placed the carving within his palm and allowed him to bring it closer for inspection.

"Where did you find this?"

"Among the humans."

"Strange that they would have such a piece."

"I thought it looked like the language the Tuatha once used. Is it?"

"No. It is the language of the Firbolgs."

"The firbolgs?"

Eudeyrn leaned forward, gnarled hands tracing the carving in a pattern that suggested he was reading whatever story was etched into the wood. "Primordial gods that walked this land long before Danu woke to the stars above her."

"What happened to them?"

"The Tuatha. The wars upon Ériu's body shattered the tribes of the Firbolgs, but this carving speaks of a tribe that managed to survive the conquest. They fled to Alba and established a otherworld of their own in the soil toiled by man."

"You are speaking of the Moors?" Maleficent's lips twisted into a frown. "That does not make sense. The Moors came to be when Danu took a nap beside the great lake when she discovered that the Tuatha had been banished from Ériu. She wept in her sleep and her dreams of Tir Na nOg came to be around her."

"Aye, that is the tale we tell the young ones." Eudeyrn nodded without dismissing her explanation. "This carving speaks differently."

"Would you not know?"

Eudeyrn lifted his sightless gaze to her own. "The tree in this human carving is my own. It speaks of the Coille and what we were brought forth for."

"The protection of the Moorlands, is that not your purpose?"

Eudeyrn shook his head. This time the motion held the slightest touch of urgency to it. It reminded Maleficent of the way branches trembled in a mighty wind. "If this carving speaks truth, Daughter of Lysander, then the Coille were not meant to keep the Moors safe from beyond the Boundary Stones."

"Then what is your purpose?"

We were brought forth to keep something locked within them."


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: I apologize for the long absence between chapter postings. School schedules, doctor appointments, a visit from the godkids, and a cold brought back from my girlfriend's vacation meant that the most I could do creative-wise the last few weeks was stare at a blank screen. I was going to post two chapters tonight, but chapter thirteen did not come out the way I wanted it to, and so I'm rewriting it to make my muse stop throwing a fit.

The Druid Code in this chapter comes from a certain media, and if someone can pick it out, then you're probably as old as I am :D

Once again, a million thanks to those that favorite/review. It means a lot to me to see the notifications and while a writer should write for the sake of appeasing the hungry maw inside of them; that there are people interested in what I'm writing is ...a very exciting feeling.

* * *

The storm descended on the Moorland with a strength that shook the boughs of the Great Trees and sent the lesser fair folk underneath their respective shelter. While not the first of the summer storms, this one was intent on leaving an impression before it rolled south and turned into a mild downpour. The storm nixes fluttered down when the first of many fat raindrops splattered over the wide petals of the whispersweet flowers and coxed Aurora up and away from the prone-to-flooding Moorland marsh and up along a winding craggy path until they guided her into a cavern protected by a stretch of rocky outcropping. From within, Aurora watched the rain backlit by the snaps of lightning as the sheet of water went vertical to horizontal with the wind.

The light inside was given up by fireleaf, a plant Maleficent showed her during the coldest part of winter. The plant's natural inclination to give off heat and light made it a welcomed substitution for actual smoke and flame in a season where dry kindling was rare. It's against the fireleaf crawling up along the rock like ivy that Aurora rested, hands filled with the fruits of her wandering. She watched the sky split open, spilling bright light over the world before the darkness swallowed the Moors, and wondered what would Maleficent had told her to explain the violent clash of nature.

The thought of the lithe fairy caused Aurora to scowl around a bite of blackberry. She'd forgotten that she was mad with the faery. No. Not mad. It was a tighter feeling that stung just underneath her breastbone like the time she'd fallen from a rotted branch high in one of the oaks that sheltered the cottage. She'd been chasing Diaval, climbing higher and higher to steal back the spool of ribbon he'd snatched from her hands, but she'd misjudged the strength of one limb and tumbled back to earth with enough force that her lungs felt bruised from the inside out.

This feeling felt like that and it lingered, stuck to her ribs like molasses.

Before they'd encountered Yennifer on the road, Aurora felt shame roll through her much like the summer storm, but it dissipated when they'd arrived at the farmhouse. Somber moods never stayed for long, but this felt different.

Tucked into the cliff with little more than the light of cave moss, Aurora thought on her journey into the human world and marveled at the sights she saw there. Philip had been eager and kind enough to show her much of what he enjoyed. A minstrel show, a joust set to the colors of the setting sun, a dance around a bonfire crackling merrily. Surrounded by people who were shedding the stress of a kingdom free from the yoke of a tyrant, Aurora had been swept away by the emotion of the crowd. None of it could match the sheer beauty and wonder that the Moors offered, but it held its own charms all the same.

She wanted to explore the kingdom, wanted to uncover the daily lives of its inhabitants as eagerly as she explored the Moors at Maleficent's side.

The dark faery's presence in her thoughts dimmed the brightness of Aurora's thoughts like a candle caught in a quick breeze. Aurora's mood grew grim as she recalled the rebukes of Maleficent. The first at the festival, then before they aided Yennifer, and then when Adalia's babe had quieted enough to be placed at her mother's breast for a first meal.

It's not that Aurora was ignorant or callous! Really! She just wanted Maleficent to like the part of Aurora's life that was outside the (what she felt) still-there Wall of Thorns. She felt as if it had only been taken down in a physical sense, yet still surrounded Maleficent as some sort of invisible shield.

She remembered Maleficent's story about her father, and could read between the lines with a quicker grasp of wit than she thought either the faery of Diaval gave her credit. She guessed Maleficent's dislike of the human kingdom stemmed in part from a fear that it would steal Aurora away as it had the young boy that Stefan once had been.

"Well," Aurora said to herself after she took a moment to suck clean the blackberry juice from her fingers. "I'll just have to show her that I'm different."

The storm rumbled as if in approval.

~.*.~

The dream disappeared with her awakening and left her with curious thoughts about the trees and whispering words on the wind. Aurora opened her eyes to the grey stained morning and the shadow of bark and antlers that stood upon the soaked ground below her shelter.

"Oh, hello Balthazar," she said, voice scratchy from sleep. "Are you looking for Maleficent?"

The great head shook.

"You were looking for me?"

Balthazar nodded, the creak of his body audible even from the distance between them.

"Oh, all right then." Aurora stretched. Her legs complained once with the movement, then quieted as blood returned to properly circulating throughout her limbs. She made sure that her retreat from the small cave would spare the fireleaf any untoward bruising, and winced as her foot slipped on rocks still wet from the rain.

Her ankle twinged and she was careful the rest of the path down, favoring her other leg until she was flat footed on grass that squelched between her toes. She tested the injury and smiled in relief when she could place weight back on it.

All through this Balthazar waited with the patience of the forest. He beckoned for her to follow him when Aurora confirmed that there was no lasting harm done to her ankle. The pair walked west, toward the boundary with the human kingdom. Aurora removed her slippers somewhere between the Wallerbog's favorite muddy creek and the overgrown barrow protected by a rather unpleasant spriggan, who leaned out from a cracked pillar to leer as Aurora passed by.

She carried her slippers in hand as Balthazar stopped just before the boundary, where the no-man's land left from the years of thorns had been churned to mud was visible through the thick undergrowth of the Moorland; he turned north to where the forest began to claim ground from the lowland marsh. Here, the trees grew taller than Aurora could crane her neck to spy and were wider than she could hope to possibly wrap her arms around. They walked further until they came to a grove of rowan trees. These were nothing like the Great Tree that Maleficent nested in, but the grove claimed a small clearing in the woods for themselves.

Aurora looked to Balthazar for clarification on what to observe or discover here. Across the Moorland and in the human kingdom, there were plenty of groves. Was there something special here? The sentinel approached the center of the grove, where the little bit of light that made it down to the forest floor settled, and waited for her to do the same.

The forest woke up around them as Aurora waited for whatever it was that Balthazar wanted to show her. Birds chirruped in the branches, and the crack of twigs and the rustle of plants announced the coming and going of wildlife that Aurora couldn't see. There was the softest of hums as the insect world roused for the day, and if Aurora strained her hearing, she could follow the babbling brook that detoured away from the great lake.

She became so absorbed in her listening that Balthazar's careful grasp of her palm caused Aurora to startle, a nervous laugh escaping her before she could stop it. His hand was rough on her own, the bark jagged and catching even with his gentle ministrations. He turned her hand palm-side up, gesturing that she should splay her fingers wide.

He pointed at her with his free hand, spoke one word in that ancient language of his, and then pressed carefully on her palm with a finger. First against the meaty bit centered between her thumb and her wrist, then at the base of her middle finger. He tapped the second pad of her smallest finger before the next touch came to the base of her index finger before the final touch landed exactly where he began.

Curiosity furrowed Aurora's brow.

Balthazar went through the motions again, pointing first at her, speaking that creaking word second, then tapping out that pattern on her hand third. He repeated the process two more times before it became clear.

"My name!"

Balthazar nodded in approval, rumbling laughter shaking his antlers. He pointed to himself, said another word, then spelled it upon Aurora's palm. This time it took two repetitions. "Your name?"

Another nod.

They went back and forth. Balthazar pointing at objects, or speaking and spelling out the words that Aurora suggests. Aurora quickly picked up the tapping on her hand connecting to letters, but it took longer until she could easily connect the touch at specific points equating to specific letters. The only obstacle was when she tried to spell her name on her own hand in the beginning, only for Balthazar to block her. He shook his head and spoke in the low timbre Maleficent once told her was a warning note.

After that she fetched fallen rowanberries and used the juice from those she crushed to paint the letters onto her name. With the stains, she worked through the common letters and those that did not come up in casual look-and-speak, she simply went down the list until her hand was covered in her known alphabet.

The second time she went to spell her name, she asked Balthazar's permission first. He studied the berry juice on her palm, then gave his approval. He watched as Aurora pressed the tip of her right index finger along the pattern of her name and when she finished with a gentle nudge to the point between her thumb and wrist a sense of … well, truth shivered through her bones.

A musical language sang to her from the haven of the outermost rowan trees. Maleficent came into view as the faery language resonated in the grove. "In the old tongue that we taught humans it is called _An Cód Drui, _in the common tongue that your people now use, it is simply the Druid's code."

"Druid?"

"Priests of men who spoke the language of the land and were the most learned among the kingdoms. They were mediators between faery and human, and oftentimes between human and human." Maleficent did not enter the ring of trees; instead she favored a slow walk around the outside. "From the stories I heard growing up, druids faded from power as the Saints came from the south, carried on the wings of the iron eagle. Your human captain, Berend, might know more about this than the oral traditions of faery."

"What is the Code for?"

"As you have noticed, Balthazar cannot speak your langauge, nor can you speak his. You might, after many years, learn to understand pieces here and there, but the human mind was not made to follow the river of words that is faery. At best, there is the go-between of the Gaels but even that is dying among your people."

Aurora remembered Gàidhlig from the lessons that Aunt Thistlewit gave on the days she'd deemed an education warranted. They usually followed a day that Aunt Flittle caused Aunt Knotgrass to puff up like a disgruntled hen during a fight and the two were locked in a battle that forced Aurora and the most mellow of her aunties out into the garden.

"When the kingdoms of the humans were little more than tribes scattered across the Highlands, the Borderguards and the Druids came up with a language that was not spoken, but conveyed through touch."

"Oh," Aurora looked down at her hand. "Why did it feel right to spell my name then?"

"Patience Beastie, every good lesson should have a tale woven through it. Unless you learned how to pay attention the pixie way?" Maleficent's lips quirked upward, the lip stain as dark as the crushed rowan berries on Aurora's hand. "Now, at first, the Druid's Code was simply a bridge between worlds. With it, faery and humans could communicate beyond the fumbling of words. We learned from the Druids, and they from us. It became something much more when the warriors of the eagle came north on a sea of red and gold."

"Who were these warriors?"

"I do not know the name they hold in human history, only the memories of the Sentinels and the stories of the spriggans," Maleficent paced a third circle around the outside. "When these battles rose up, the warriors knew to attack the _drui_ first, somehow understanding that the druids were the keystone to their tribes and to the alliance between man and fae. The druids were teachers and lawmakers, not soldiers, and even the harsh landscape could only slow the red tide so long. So the Code evolved."

"Evolved?"

Maleficent nodded to Balthazar, who then pressed a new word into Aurora's hand. He pressed it again, and then a third time. Then he waited for her to spell it back to him.

Aurora's eyes left Balthazar to watch Maleficent who paced still outside the grove. When neither gave her any indication of continuing unless she spelled the word, her attention ducked to her palm and she did so. She tapped the tip of her index finger for 'L', then the base of her middle finger for 'U', then the base of her smallest finger for 'I', and then the tip of her ring finger for 'S'. _Luis._

As the word rang in her mind, she felt her body change. Gone was the golden laurel of her hair and the paleness of her skin, replaced by the bark and branches of the slender rowan trees around her. She felt her feet become roots and she could taste the sweetness of the soil she had sunk into.

And all along the edge of her awareness came the softest of whispers, welcoming and friendly in their way. Words were not exchanged, but emotions were, and Aurora learned that those who surrounded her were the trees. The trees! She was a tree. How could she be a tree? She was a human girl and her name was not Luis, it was Aurora!

The wind whistled along her branches and she could feel the faint touch of sunlight upon the crown of her leaves, and then all too soon she was flesh and blood again, her body her own and the need to breathe something foreign to her body.

"What … was that?" She asked, eyes wide.

"Protection." Maleficent stared at her with the same awe Aurora remembered seeing upon waking from the curse. It's disbelief mingled with wonderment and she grew curious as to what magic she defied this time. "The druids tended the sacred groves and the sacred groves tended to them in turn. You felt right when you spelled your name because it was your true name. At your Christening, you were bestowed with yours and as long as you remember it, no enchantment can steal away what makes you, you."

"...but I turned into a tree." She frowned, because that sentence sounded odd. "I did turn into a tree… right?"

"Yes, Aurora. Within the sacred groves, if you trace the name of the trees into your palm, they will shelter you as one of them until whatever danger you're fleeing from has left. Merely think of your true name and you will return to your true self."

Aurora stared her hand with a newfound light. "This is …"

"A gift." Maleficent interrupted her. "A belated one, for your birthday. A reminder that you belong in both worlds, faery and …" her voice caught, tearing into a higher octave. "And ...human. Faery and human."

"Godmother…" Aurora rose to her feet and took a step forward.

Maleficent took a shaky step back, much like that first night they met. Her eyes went wide and nervous like a deer and Aurora braced for the golden sweep of sleeping magic to fall over her. Only it didn't. And only Maleficent's wings remained inviting, half-furled in a lazy demeanor to soak up what little sunlight poured onto the forest floor.

Their laissez-faire attitude of wings still so new to the dance of their relationship was not enough for Aurora to ignore the clear warning Maleficent gave off. Her first step turned into her last and she did her best to smile from the distance between her and her godmother. She rocked on her heels, hands clasped before her.

"If you are to have friends in the human kingdom, Aurora, then a simple query during a handshake will point them out to you. Any one human who was trusted by faery enough to be taught this will be a friend to you." Maleficent's words were clipped, faster than her usual speech. Aurora figured it was still nerves, but she could not understand why the faery would be nervous around her. The faery's hand fluttered up near her throat, and the jittery movement floated down through her body until Aurora watched the tip of flight feathers quiver. "Now. I spent the night with Balthazar's … I suppose the best translation would be elder - and they invited you to watch an awakening ceremony. Would you wish to do so?"

"Yes." Aurora took her second step toward Maleficent now that she felt it was safe to do so, but halted a second time. She returned to Balthazar's side and picked up his hand. As he queried her actions, she spelled out 'thank you' into his hand before she darted to the offered opening underneath Maleficent's wing.


End file.
